


Are you sure?

by saquashing



Series: The Time We Spent Together [1]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Dadza basically adopts everyone, Dream is a villain, DreamSMP - Freeform, Everyone Needs A Hug, Fluff, George Needs a Hug, M/M, Other, Other Characters - Freeform, Possesive Dream, Protective GeorgeNotFound, Protective Wilbur Soot, Slow Burn, They/Them pronouns for Eret, Trauma, Wilbur isn't insane, but he did light the tnt still, george feels guilty, results of the war, self-destructive georgenotfound, wilbur needs a hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:01:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 33,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27611062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saquashing/pseuds/saquashing
Summary: “Are you sure about this?” Wilbur asked. He knew that this was what he wanted, there was no one for him here anymore. But he wanted to make sure George felt the same way."Are you?"Post lighting of the TNT and events of the war.
Relationships: GeorgeNotFound/Wilbur Soot, Karl Jacobs/Sapnap
Series: The Time We Spent Together [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2088588
Comments: 114
Kudos: 583
Collections: Completed stories I've read





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written in years, but the lack of George/Wilbur was driving me insane.  
> Don't judge too hard, this was very rushed. 
> 
> This fic isn't going to be Dream friendly. Nothing against him I just liked him as the bad guy for this.
> 
> Also - this is my first post on AO3, still figuring out how this works lmao

George sighed, his hands feeling heavy with the weight of crown he held. The heaviness of the crown only rivaling that of his guilt. He felt the cool gold of the throne against his back, a constant reminder of the events of today.  


He really did try to do what Dream wanted. He tried to wear the crown, sit on the throne, and pretend like the foreign castle was his own. But no matter what he did, it still felt empty, and wrong. Nothing would ever change that.  


George remembered spending forever in his strip mine, looking for diamonds and collecting any andesite he saw for Eret, who built this castle from the ground up.  


Oh, how this place has changed, he thought. Tears involuntarily began to spill down his face, and his lips curved with a sad, broken smile.  


He shook his head and wiped off the stray tears on his flushed cheeks. He never wanted this.  
Only a few hours ago he was with Callahan and Sam, collecting materials for his new home. Which he was excited for if he was being honest. 

But Dream swooped in with the promise of a new house, already built. He gave George a massive responsibility and left with no regrets.  


George liked Eret. That was the worst part of all of this. They had never been anything but kind to him. They offered help, support, materials, and a comforting shoulder to cry on whenever he needed it.  


They were one of the most genuine people he had ever met, and George had sat by while Dream and Punz took away everything from them. He would never forget the look of hurt and betrayal in their eyes as they were escorted from the castle.  


How were they supposed to be on the right side of history? This didn’t seem like the right side to him.  


Honestly, George didn’t know what they were fighting for. He had no idea who was on whose sides.  


The only real piece of information he heard was from some of the civilians that resided in the DreamSMP, and they were just rumors. Something about Wilbur rigging L’Manburg with TNT? Manburg, he reminded himself.  


If Wilbur Soot was willing to blow Manburg to the ground, something big must have changed.  
George thought back to the fight for L’manburg. The series of battles, the duel, when they lit the original TNT. 

No matter what, Wilbur never gave up. He always had a speech or song prepared to rally the troops. He fought for what he believed in despite being heavily outmatched.  
His determination is what got under Dream’s skin, he knew. He never caved to the green-eyed man.  


George admired Wilbur, not that he would ever admit it.  


He didn’t know what he was fighting for then, either. He never could understand why Wilbur, Tommy, and their friends couldn’t have their own land. Who did it hurt?  


In retrospect, George did know. It was the same reason why he didn’t fight Dream today when he stripped Eret of their crown. Dream needed power, needed to be in control. And George would follow the blonde man anywhere, into any battle. He fought solely for him.  


He hated that his feelings for his best friend biased him enough to be willing to betray and hurt his friends.  


He felt the guilt pooling in his stomach and his heart felt like giving out.  


He had spent a lot of time recently with Quackity, he genuinely enjoyed his company. But he had been willing to leave him too when Dream wanted him.  


Poor Quackity. He had been having a hard time recently, George knew. He felt bad for leaving him with Schlatt but he didn’t know what else to do.  


He just hoped that the younger man was alright. He saw Manburg only briefly after the explosion and didn’t have enough time to see if everyone was okay.  


He had been sitting with Callahan, admiring their build that was quickly coming together.  


Not that that lasted long, George thought bitterly.  


But then the ground shook, despite being so far from the explosion. They ran straight towards the smoke plume, through the crowds of people fleeing. They arrived at the scene just in time to see Philza slice through Wilbur’s side. Wilbur fled after that, but 

George was too distracted by the massive crater to focus on where he went.  


George was frozen in place, forgetting he wasn’t welcome until he caught Eret’s and Tubbo’s eyes, who both looked at him in disgust.  


Callahan pulled him away soon after that.  


On the way back to the castle, which he still refused to call his own, he couldn’t help but reminisce about the old days.  


They were always exploring, traveling, having fun. Dream was so generous then. Always gifting the smaller man with netherite, diamonds, and food. He never expected anything in return. He remembered how his eyes would crinkle when he laughed, and his laugh. God, his laugh. 

George didn’t remember the last time he heard it, but it used to be his favorite sound.  


He just knew Dream was involved with the events in L’Manburg.  


This is all your fault, the voice inside his head told him. He should have seen this coming. Seen Dream changing, becoming power-hungry and someone George didn’t recognize. He no longer cared about who he hurt, and maybe if George saw it earlier he could have stopped him.  


His breath began to quicken and the room spun around him. The empty castle ironically made him feel claustrophobic.  


“Fuck this.” He mumbled as he grasped the crown, but still refused to put it on. The piece of metal felt like an anvil in his hand. “I need air.”  


He walked out of the carefully crafted archway and down the path. He didn’t know why he went straight to the community house, his legs just took him there. It was like he was moving on auto-pilot.  


He walked inside the building, not bothering to shut the door behind him. His cheeks were flushed and tears were threatening to spill once again as he took in the place.  


The community house was the first building they had built together. His breathing began to quicken and his hands shook.  


How did everything get so complicated?  


The sound of a chest slamming shut ripped him from his thoughts, and it accelerated his adrenaline.  


Maybe he should have brought a weapon...  


“George?” A deep voice he knew all too well asked from behind a large chest.  


He wiped the stray tears from his cheeks with shaky hands.  


“Wilbur?” George sniffled, “What are you doing here?”  


He walked around the large chest the taller man was sat up against and gasped.  


Wilbur had his back against the chest, and he held his side. Blood covered his shirt and hands and he looked extremely pale.  


“Oh, you know, just decided to take a walk.” Wilbur coughed, sarcasm dripping from his words, “It’s a nice night out, isn’t it?”  


The shorter male rolled his eyes and moved closer.  


“What do you want?” Wilbur groaned as he attempted to push himself away from George but ultimately failed.  


George roughly grabbed the other man’s wrist and moved it from his wound. He felt a little guilty when he winced, but he knew he had to help.  


“Let me help you,” George replied. He placed the golden crown next to him and ignored Wilbur’s curious expression at the object.  


George felt a little grateful when the taller man didn’t question him, though he knew it was only because of how weak he was.  


He sighed and stood up, scanning the chests in the building. Soon after he walked directly to a chest pushed against the far wall.  


“Gogy, I already looked in there. There’s nothing that can help me.” The injured man sputtered.  


He sounded unsettlingly content with his current situation, George noted.  


The smaller male ignored him and shoved the chest away from the wall.  


‘When we first built this house,” George explained, then opened a hidden chest, “We agreed that we needed an emergency stash, just in case. In none of our houses and somewhere we could always get to.”  


He let out a pleased noise when he found what he was looking for, and walked back to Wilbur.  


He twisted the cork of the vial and it finally let go with a satisfying pop.  


“Drink.” He commanded.  


Wilbur eyed the offending vial and George simultaneously. “And If I said no? For all I know you’re here to tie up Dream’s loose ends.”  


George ignored his piqued curiosity after Wilbur spoke, and vowed to ask about it after he healed.  


“If I wanted you to die, I would just leave you to bleed out. Now, drink.” George urged.  


Finally, the taller man caved and downed the contents of the vial.  


George sat down at the other man’s side and waited a few minutes for the potion to kick into effect.  


“Is that Eret’s crown?” Wilbur asked eventually, motioning towards the shining piece of gold next to them. “Why do you have it?”  


‘Dream gave it to me.” George admitted. He thought about getting up and leaving it at that, but the thought of going back to that empty castle alone made him shiver.  


“I’m the king now.” He added with a bitter chuckle.  


“How did that happen?” he asked, eyebrows raised. “Is that where you were today?”  


“Eret betrayed Dream, I guess. So Dream gave me the throne.” The smaller male replied, sounding numb. He kept his gaze in front of him. “As for not showing up today, that’s part of the reason, yes. But honestly, I didn’t know what was happening… I didn’t know what I was supposed to be fighting for. That happens a lot...”  


“Because of Dream?” Wilbur asked, his head tilted in interest.  


“What did you mean earlier, when you implied I was tying up Dream’s loose ends?” He asked, changing the subject.  


Wilbur chuckled, darkly, and his eyes darkened with anger. “He gave me the TNT. Did he not tell you about that, Gogy?”  


George’s head snapped towards the other, shock plaguing his face.  


“I made a deal with him,” Wilbur explained, “No matter what happened I would set off the TNT. I didn’t expect our side to win, Gogy. I should have known Dream and Schlatt had something up their sleeves. I couldn’t make sure the TNT never went off, but at least I could make sure no one got hurt.”  


George’s stomach churned, and he felt bile rising in his throat. Dream, his Dream, helped orchestrate the explosion. But Dream didn’t know that everyone would survive, he was okay with murdering their old friends just to establish dominance.  


‘Can I ask you something, George?” Wilbur continued, but not bothering to wait for permission. “How are you so loyal to him? He treats you like a pawn, and you just... let him. I don’t understand.”  


George almost got defensive and stuck up for Dream, but he knew Wilbur was right. He didn’t say anything he wasn’t already feeling.  


Instead, he turned to face the other man and answered honestly. “He’s my best friend. Was, was my best friend.”  


“You have feelings for him.” Wilbur sympathized, it sounding more like a statement than a question.  


George shifted his gaze down to the floor.  


‘Why did you work with him?” George asked, attempting to put the focus on something else.  


Wilbur sighed and clasped his hands on his lap.  


“I thought that it was over. We were living in a ravine, for God’s sakes. We tried to take L’Manburg back from Schlatt again and again. But it always failed.”Wilbur ranted, his voice growing in volume and waving his hands around passionately.” If I worked with Dream, at least I could know what he was planning, and by pretending to go insane, he let me. Turns out I didn’t have a clue.”  


“I didn’t want to blow it up, George. Of course, I didn’t” He finished, placing his hand back in his lap.  


George stayed quiet, not knowing what to say.  


“Have you ever thought about running away, George?” Wilbur asked after a couple of minutes of silence. “Just... I don’t know, starting fresh?”  


“I haven’t,” George answered truthfully. The more he thought about it though, the more it made sense. Starting fresh, no more reminders of the people he’s hurt. “Have you, Wilbur?”  


‘Not until today, when I was running from Phil. his face, George, he hated me.” Wilbur replied, his deep voice breaking.  


George didn’t know what came over him, but after a moment he stood up and reached for Wilbur’s hand.  


“Let’s do it, then.” He said as if it was the most simple thing in the world.  


Wilbur accepted his hand then waited as the smaller man bent to pick up the crown.  


“Are you serious George? What about Dream?” He asked, but followed George out of the building regardless.  


“Screw Dream,” George answered, carefree. He walked up the castle steps with determination, and relished in the fact that the imposing building no longer filled him with dread, but rather freedom. “Besides, this was your idea.”  


Wilbur chuckled and continued following, slightly behind George, despite his long legs giving him an advantage.  


“Why are we here?” Wilbur asked as they entered the impressive castle entrance.  


George just rolled his eyes and shushed the taller man, leading them into the throne room.  


Wilbur watched as George carefully placed the golden crown on the throne, the rainbow crystals shimmering with the light of the torches.  


He then picked up a satchel next to the throne and directed Wilbur towards the back door.  


“Are you sure about this?” Wilbur asked, he knew that this was what he wanted, there was no one for him here anymore. But he wanted to make sure George felt the same way.  


George turned to face Wilbur, he nodded and gave him an expression like his answer was obvious, which the taller man grinned at.  


“Are you?” George asked, guiding them down the path that led through Ant’s Animal Sanctuary, past L’Manburg and heading North, towards the nearest village.  


“I am,” Wilbur replied, tone clear that his decision was final.  


George smiled, and Wilbur’s eyes shone with relief.  


“Then let’s do this.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wilbur and George bond on the way to their new life, meanwhile their disappearance doesn't go unnoticed.

The travelers' cheerful moods quickly soured as they passed the remains of L’Manburg. Smoke was still billowing out of the crater, and it spilled ash into the air around them. 

Many onlookers surrounded the grounds, whispering amongst themselves. 

Quite regularly there were wars of music discs and pets, but they rarely led to something of this magnitude. 

Wilbur’s feet felt heavy, and he had to put a lot of effort into not tripping over them as they walked. 

He noticed George’s expression as he got a better look at the damage, but he couldn’t make himself turn his head. 

I bet George regrets his decision now, he thought. He was escaping with a monster, after all. 

His head felt clouded and he had to wrest the dizziness away. 

Deep breaths, he reminded himself. It was something Phil used to tell him whenever he felt upset or overwhelmed. 

He missed his dad. 

They hadn’t even been gone a full 24 hours but his heart yearned for his family and friends. Hell, he even missed Tommy, the little gremlin. 

He would never be able to forget their horrified expressions and blood-curdling screams. 

“They won’t have to deal with me anymore.” He mumbled under his breath, then stepped across a small stream. 

They were getting further away from L’Manburg and he appreciated the tension alleviating with every step. 

“What was that?” George asked from ahead on the trail, stopping briefly to let Wilbur catch up. 

Wilbur forced a small smile on his face and replied, “Nothing, Gogy.” 

The smaller man tilted his head and giggled, “Then why are you so slow?” 

The taller man chuckled, grateful that he wasn’t alone right now. 

“You ask me to run away with you then bully me,” Wilbur retorted, “Make up your mind.”

George tilted his head back and laughed brightly, eyes shining in mirth,

Wilbur found that he enjoyed the sound of his laugh. After the past couple of days, it felt like therapy. 

He felt weirdly proud he was the one who caused it. 

They continued on the trail, making small talk and taking short breaks whenever one of them needed a second. 

Usually, Wilbur hated small talk, but now he found that silence made him uncomfortable.   
Whenever there was a break in the conversation, he found himself recalling the last conversation he had with his dad. 

You’re my son.

Wilbur shuddered, blocking it out. 

He ignored George’s curious glance, grateful the other man didn’t ask about it. 

He started a new conversation after that. 

Eventually, they stumbled upon a clearing, and with the sun on the horizon, they decided to stop for the night.

Wilbur had found some supplies in the buildings on the way out of town, some sleeping bags, an ax, and some food. It wasn’t much but it was effective. 

He unrolled their sleeping bags while George collected firewood, they had a flint and steel so starting a fire wouldn’t be a problem. 

“Wilbur, come look at this!” George exclaimed, waving him over and bouncing on the balls of his feet. 

The smaller man disappeared through a gap in the trees, not bothering to wait for Wilbur to catch up. 

He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but it definitely wasn’t seeing the smaller man scamper around a flower field. 

George’s face was lit up in pure gaiety, his eyes, and smile reflecting that of childlike wonder. 

The taller’s head tilted in awe, and his stomach pooled in quiet adoration. Which he ignored. 

“What are you doing?” He asked, attempting to stop himself from laughing, but failing as he watched the other man pick and smell an assortment of flowers. 

George’s head snapped in his direction and scowled, “I'm appreciating beauty, Wilbur.” 

Wilbur’s chest shook with laughter, “You’re colorblind, Gogy.” 

“So?” The smaller man huffed, crossing his arms over his chest and pouting. 

Wilbur laughed harder, his breath light and giddy.

George tried to keep pouting, but soon he joined in the laughter. 

“Stop laughing,” He said between breaths, cheeks hurting. “Now I’m embarrassed.” 

The taller’s laugh faded, but his smile remained. 

“Aw, don’t be embarrassed, Gogs, it’s cute.” He replied, sounding more affectionate than he meant to.   
He could think about the implications of that, later. 

George didn’t seem to notice, he just rolled his eyes and muttered “Gogs.” 

“We should probably go to sleep, we have a long day tomorrow.” He said, a small smile still present on his face and twirling a small cornflower between his fingers. 

“After you.”

Their sleeping bags were rolled out about a foot from each other, and a small campfire crackled in front of them. 

Wilbur put another log on the fire, then crawled into his sleeping bag. 

His companion was already tucked in his sleeping bag, curled up like a cat. 

“Goodnight, Will.” He said with closed eyes. Soon after his breath evened out. 

He must have been exhausted, Wilbur thought. 

As time ticked by and the silence surrounded him, his lungs started to feel constricted. He cursed his heart as it sped up, anxiety pooling in his stomach. 

It was never meant to be. 

The phrase rattled in his head like a brick, reminding him of the first time he heard it. 

The control room, the button sitting in the middle of the floor. How strangely parallel.

He remembered Dream and his posse, George included, storming into the room, swords raised and ready to fight. He remembered Tommy’s pleas and Tubbo’s screams, which fell on deaf ears. 

Those poor kids, always dragged into wars they had no business being in. 

He used to hate Eret. Hated their betrayal and how they used their lives as a way to get more power. 

But when he was in that room with Phil, he understood. He understood how easy it was for Dream to manipulate them and mold them into a traitor, he did the same thing with him. 

Eret’s words were the only thing that felt fitting at that moment.   
Maybe if he was a better leader he could have prevented them from helping Dream oh so long ago. 

He didn’t hate Eret anymore.

He knew they would probably never see the people of L’Manburg again, but he hoped that eventually, they would forgive him. 

He scanned his companion’s sleeping form, his face was contorted in distress. 

Wilbur felt anger growing at that. 

He didn’t know how anyone could hurt the sleeping man, and he hated Dream for doing so. 

At least they had each other, he thought. 

He regretted not getting closer with George before the war. He genuinely liked the other man, even when he was one of Dream’s lackeys. 

Maybe his opinion was just biased. 

“Keep it together.” He muttered, hands clutching the sleeping bag around him.

You’re my son.

He was back in the room, watching the dust settle of the ruins of L’Manburg. His heart ached, or more accurately, shattered. 

The horror on his dad’s face hurt worse than anything else.   
He was clutching a sword, and Wilbur knew what needed to happen next. 

He shuddered, finding it hard to breathe. 

Then his body wracked with an involuntary sob. No matter how hard he tried to will them away, more and more came. 

“Wilbur?” A timid voice asked. 

He flinched and turned to see George, whose concern was obvious on his face. 

Wilbur sat up and wiped the tears off his cheeks. He tried to tell him to go back to sleep, that he was fine. But when he took a breath more sobs escaped. 

George immediately got out of his sleeping bag and sat beside the taller man. He pulled Wilbur against his chest and rubbed patterns on his back. 

Any control Wilbur had left was lost at that point, he gave up trying to contain his tears and sobbed into the other’s chest. 

He could faintly hear George humming, so quiet he probably wouldn’t have been able to tell if it wasn’t for the vibrations resonating through him. 

"It's going to be okay." He assured, leaning his head on top of the other. "Just breathe."

That was the last thing he heard before falling asleep, the other man still holding him. 

Hours later, when he woke up, George was gone. 

“George?” He called out, voice thick. 

He crawled out of the sleeping bag, wincing slightly at the chilly night air. 

He headed straight to the flower field, his gut telling him that’s where he would be. 

He was right. There sat the other man, staring up at the night sky. The moonlight filling the field with a soothing ambiance. 

He didn’t say anything, just sat down next to the smaller man, who squirmed a little at his arrival.

“Have you gotten any sleep?” Wilbur asked, feeling guilty about waking the other. 

George lowered his head from the stars and faced the taller man. 

“After you fell asleep I got a couple of hours, I woke up not long ago,” George replied earnestly. “How are you feeling.” 

Wilbur sucked in a breath, cheeks burning in embarrassment. At least he could blame it on the cold, he thought. 

“I’m sorry you had to see that.” He apologized, taking a shaky breath. 

George’s eyebrows furrowed and he shifted closer to the other. Close enough he could feel the heat radiating off his body. 

“Don’t be.”

George turned back to the sky, watching the sky with silent admiration. 

“Do you have a favorite planet, Wilbur?” He asked. 

Wilbur didn’t look at the stars, instead, he focused on the other’s face. He appreciated how the soft lighting made the other look like he was made of porcelain, or out of a painting. 

He scanned his delicate features and watched how his Adam’s apple moved when he swallowed. 

George is muse material, Wilbur decided. 

“I don’t.” He confessed. Space always stressed him out, there were too many unanswered questions. He preferred to focus on what was happening on Earth.

George looked back at Wilbur, this time their faces were mere inches apart. 

If he focussed he could hear the other’s gentle breaths. 

Before either of them could say something, an arrow whizzed barely above their heads, breaking them out of their trance. 

“Oh fuck.” The taller man exclaimed, and they both jumped up off the ground. 

They were running back to the clearing when another arrow whizzed by, missing George by millimeters. 

They turned to the direction the arrow came from, seeing a lone skeleton. But not long after zombies started crawling out of the woods surrounding them. 

Wilbur turned back to George, noting the absence of fear on his face. Instead, his eyes were squinted in determination, and a fire was burned in his eyes.  
“I’ll get the zombies, you take care of the skeleton.” He directed, tossing Wilbur the ax they used to chop wood, and grabbed his bow. 

If they weren’t in a perilous situation, he would take a minute to think about how George looked holding a bow.   
He had seen it a couple of times on the battlefield, usually aimed at him. 

But he was never afraid the smaller man would hurt him. He wondered why. 

Wilbur turned back to the skeleton just in time to dodge another arrow. 

God, he hated skeletons. 

He managed to get to the monster with no wounds and took it down with a few swings of his ax. 

He scanned the area for his companion, who seemed to had gone into the woods to fight the mobs. 

He followed the sounds of monsters groaning, it sounded like there was a lot more than they thought. 

“Argh!” He heard the other cry out, sparking him to run as fast as he could towards the commotion. 

“George?!” He shouted, finally arriving at where he was. 

He watched as the shorter man pulled back an arrow, shooting it directly into a zombie’s head, though three more emerged seconds after. 

“Don’t worry, Gogy,” Wilbur teased, slicing the head off of one of the rotting beasts. “You’re white knight is here to save you.” 

He heard George groan in annoyance, and could tell he was rolling his eyes. 

The shorter man shot another arrow, piercing one zombie and then hitting the other, both corpse’s fell to the ground with a satisfying thud. 

“I’m not a damsel in distress, Wilbur.” 

Wilbur’s eyebrows raised in bewilderment. 

“You would have died if I wasn’t here.” he joked, leaning against a tree. 

George rolled his eyes and hung his bow on his shoulder. “Aw, you were worried about me, how sweet.” 

“Worried about making the rest of the trek by myself,” He quipped, leading them back to camp. "Who would carry the food?"   
The shorter man scoffed and shoved Wilbur’s side. 

‘We should probably get going, the sun should be rising soon anyways.” 

George hummed in agreement and they began packing up their camp. 

\-----------

Sapnap stepped through the portal, his eyes taking a minute to adjust to the bright sun of the overworld. 

Dream had asked the younger man to go get more blaze rods today, he didn’t understand why, they had plenty. But he did as he was asked. 

Nothing could have prepared him for what he would see when came back.   
The streets of the DreamSMP were packed, people were crying, some were whispering, and a staggering amount was covered in dust. 

What the hell? 

“Sap!” He heard someone yell, and he turned to watch Sam navigate through the crowd. 

The taller man pulled him into a hug, lightly clapping his shoulder. 

“Where the hell have you been?” He asked, pulling back to scan him, checking for injuries. 

“The nether.” He answered, eyebrows furrowed. “What the hell is going on?”

Sam sighed and rubbed his hands through his hair. “Wilbur blew up L’Manburg.” 

Sapnap’s eyes widened, he can’t believe that Wilbur would ever do that. 

‘That’s not all,” Sam continued, “Dream made George king of the SMP.” 

“What?!” Sap exclaimed, he felt nauseous. “I need to see George.” 

Sam grabbed his wrist and made eye contact. “Be careful, Dream and Schlatt are up to something.” 

Sapnap was confused but agreed regardless.

He headed directly towards the andesite pillars, heart racing. 

As he jogged up the castle steps, he noticed Schlatt and Dream walk into one of the storage towers. 

He leaned against the side of the tower, out of view. 

“I have to hand it to you Dream, when you first told me your plan about making Wilbur blow up Manburg, I didn’t think it would work.” Schlatt laughed, “Consider me pleasantly surprised. 

His eyebrows raised and he frowned, what the hell, Dream? 

“It was easier than I thought, too bad no one died.” Dream chuckled darkly, “I would love to get rid of some of those idiots.” 

He covered his mouth to stop himself from making any noise. 

“What do we do about Wilbur and George?” Schlatt asked. 

Dream snooped through the chests in the tower, admiring Eret’s extensive collections of random materials. 

“Wilbur’s probably dead on the side of the road somewhere. I’ll send people looking tomorrow.” He replied, nonchalant. “As for George, he’ll adjust. I’ve left him alone, giving him space to get used to everything. I’m not worried about him, though. He always does what I want.” 

Sapnap turned abruptly and ran to the castle, he needed to find George, asap. 

He walked into the vast throne room, looking for the older man. 

But it was empty. 

He almost left to check another room when a shining glint caught his eye. 

There sat the crown, laying delicately on the throne. 

If the crown is on the throne, where is George? 

His stomach sank, and his breathing quickened. 

He needed help. 

\----------

Philza sat in quiet contemplation as he watched renovations start on L’Manburg. The community had come together to help put it back together. 

He watched Tommy and Tubbo discuss new ideas for how to improve L’manburg. He felt nothing but pride when he watched them, they were only teenagers but were already more mature than most adults. 

His gaze shifted to Techno, who was arguing with Quackity on how essential a potato farm was on the new grounds. 

Nikki and Fundy sat slightly in front of them, feeding stray animals who were displaced after the explosion. 

Even Skeppy and Badboyhalo came down to help.

But he still felt empty. 

He thought about the last time he saw his eldest son and the feeling of his sword slicing through his flesh, recoiling in shame. 

He hated himself. He should have helped him, got him from out of Dream’s grasp. He didn’t know exactly what happened but based on Wilbur’s ramblings in the final moments before the TNT went off, he knew there was more than meets the eye. 

Everyone else agreed.

His fists clenched, that green bastard ruined his family. 

Phil didn’t want to hurt his son, but he acted solely on auto-pilot. He thought Wilbur had killed his brothers and heard him beg him to end it all. 

But then Wilbur ran, and his other sons proved they were okay. And he knew that his anger had gotten the best of him. 

He was despicable. 

He choked down his bile and tore his gaze from the others. He prayed Wilbur was okay. 

He heard footsteps behind him, and he cursed under his breath. He wasn’t in the mood to put up with anyone. 

Then he saw who it was, and had to force himself to not cause a scene. 

“Have you seen George?” Sapnap asked, voice steady but his twiddling fingers gave away how he felt about talking to the older man. 

Philza didn’t answer, he just turned and glared at the younger man. 

Sapnap sighed and took a seat next to him. 

He clenched his fists, fingernails digging into his skin. 

Sapnaps presence didn’t go unnoticed, soon everyone was quiet and watching their interaction with curious eyes. 

No one dared to interrupt, not even Tommy. 

Phil ignored the stares and scowled at the other man. 

“You have a lot of nerve showing your face here.” He spit out, maintaining eye contact. “Where’s Dream? You never leave his side.” 

Sapnap looked at the ground. “I don’t think I can be on his side. Not anymore.”

“And you expect me to believe that?” 

“No.” He answered honestly. “Dream didn’t tell me what he was planning, instead he sent me to the nether on some fake mission. I heard him bragging about how he manipulated Wilbur. He didn’t feel any guilt.”

Phil’s anger morphed into shock, his suspicions validated. Wilbur wasn’t at fault for this. 

“Explain.”

Sapnap looked relieved that the older man wasn’t going to deck him anytime soon and took a deep breath. 

“I don’t know the details. He kept us out of it.” He explained, “But I heard him talking to Schlatt. L’Manburg was going to be blown up no matter what.” 

“How does George come into this?” Phil asked, remembering what Sapnap first asked. 

“I don’t know.” Sap admitted, putting his head in his hands. “Dream made George king, and when I went to talk to him the only thing I found was his crown. I don’t think Dream knows yet.” 

Phil swallowed, he felt pity for the younger man. 

“We haven’t seen Wilbur either.” He admitted. 

“Dream thinks he’s dead, but they haven’t found his body yet,” Sapnap confessed. “There’s going to be people looking for him tomorrow.”

Phil winced, his throat constricting. 

“But I don’t think he’s dead.” He continued, “What are the odds both George and Wilbur are missing?” 

“You think they’re together?” 

“I do.”

“Then let’s help each other.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really appreciate all of the nice comments and kudos <3 
> 
> And if you're looking for a sign to start writing or try it again, here it is.   
>  It won't be perfect, but that's ok :) it's all about the growth.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dream realizes that not everything is going to plan.   
>  Sapnap talks to the rest of the sleepy bois.   
> Wilbur and George come upon the town, more sleepy comfort ensues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you saw me upload this chapter the first time, no you didn't.   
>  Happy Thanksgiving, everyone. Remember to socially-distance and wear your masks. 
> 
> TW// slightly more graphic depictions of violence and gore, but not too much. Read at your own discretion.

Dream wasn’t a bad guy. No, really he wasn’t.

He did the things no one else was willing to do. He was the only one who was capable of leading. 

That’s precisely why Manburg had to go. Wilbur couldn’t lead, Schlatt couldn’t lead, and lord knows a Tubbo-Tommy presidency wouldn’t go well. 

Wilbur always dragged them into war, he projected his high and mighty morals onto everyone else. He was toxic. He did them a favor by blowing it up and getting rid of Wilbur. Even if no one else could admit it. 

He too used to be blind to Wilbur’s manipulation, they were even friends, but then Dream saw the truth. People change, circumstances change, and now he’s better. Everything is better this way.

His skill was truly unmatched with anyone else in the DreamSMP. Manburg, Pogtopia, or the Badlands. Sure Technoblade could fight, but his heart wasn’t in it. The pink-haired man lacked the intent to try to make a change. 

Months ago Dream started stealing. Not that he needed to steal anything, he could get anything he wanted at a snap of his fingers. There was always an army of people around desperately trying to get on his good side. 

But the thrill of getting away with it, oh it pulled him in like a drug. It was an adrenaline rush. He didn’t ever feel the need to try drugs, never even pufferfish or blaze powder. He knew he got addicted to things too fast, yet he still let himself get pulled into the chemical high. 

The feeling of his blood pumping, his senses sharpening, and his head feeling fuzzy was almost euphoric. When he got away with a particularly difficult robbery, his skin felt like every cell was set on fire. 

No one else would ever be as clever as him. They were puppets, he was the puppet master. Any freedom they got, was because he was so generous to give it to them. 

He had gotten away with the destruction of Manburg, too. No matter how many times they rebuilt, they would never feel completely safe. The only two who knew he had his hands dirty were Schlatt and Wilbur. Schlatt was on his side, and Wilbur was dead. 

Wilbur was gone. 

Dream chuckled, tossing his sword in between his hands. The weight of the blade used to be foreign to him, but now he saw the weapon as an extension of his own body. There was nothing wrong with being violent, especially when it’s deserved. 

Honestly, the tall man was a pain in his ass. It’s a relief he’s dead. 

The citizens of Manburg were already crawling back to the DreamSMP, no one felt safe anymore. Once his old ‘friends’ let go of their grudges they would come back too. 

Hopefully, they’d learn from this. Starting a political revolution isn’t easy, nor worth it. Dream was the only one fit to be in charge. They’ll understand this now. 

He would forgive them and welcome them back with open arms. As long as they ask nicely, of course. He was a forgiving person, after all. 

Honestly, he didn’t care if they had survived the explosion or not. But they did, so he would make do.

Getting rid of a few of those idiots wouldn’t be a bad thing. They all had ‘morals’ and ‘ethics’. But everyone is willing to cave on their principals with enough motivation. And what better motivator is there than fear? 

Dream smirked as he remembered Tommy’s screams and Tubbo’s tears. It was almost cinematic. 

He was the director, they were the actors. 

Everything that had happened was just character development, a wonderfully scripted line of events that changed them forever. They wouldn’t have a plot if it wasn’t for him, they should be thankful. 

Philza was an unexpected development, he admitted. He didn’t think he would corner Wilbur in that room. It almost had him worried for a second. 

He had snuck closer, ready to light off TNT and leave them to die. But then Philza stabbed his son, taking care of his issue for him. It was better than anything he could have dreamt of. 

Dream smiled in reminiscence. Not even a father-son bond could stop him. His skill was unparalleled. 

A knock on the door brought him out of his thoughts, and he slid the sword back in the sheath. His temper only rose slightly at being interrupted, he only wanted to talk to Sapnap or George, but both were busy.

“Come in.” He called, watching the door closely. His eyes scanned the entryway unrelenting as it opened slowly. Tentatively one of his ‘soldiers’, as he called them, walked in. He didn’t have an army, per se, but it didn’t hurt to have some loyal, trained groups of people. Just in case. 

The soldier kept his gaze on the floor, shifting his weight. He was obviously distressed about having to talk to the other man, and Dream guessed he drew the short straw.

He couldn’t help but feel pride glow in his chest at how anxious the other man seemed. His intimidation and reputation surrounded him like an ever-present aura. 

He looked like he was on the verge of shaking. “We might have a situation.” The soldier admitted. 

Dream’s irritation rose, drowning out the pride. He didn’t want to spend more than five minutes talking to this imbecile. 

“Spit it out.” He chastised, crossing his arms against his chest. He was fairly taller than the other man, and the position only made him more intimidating. 

The soldier took a shaky breath and slowly lifted his gaze. “We’ve been searching all day, but Wilbur’s body hasn’t been found.”

Dream’s blood boiled. The moronic ex-president couldn’t even die right. He clenched his fists, and the shape of crescent moons pierced his skin. 

“That’s not all,” he continued, gulping loudly. “The community house was looted, and it looks like whoever was there found a hidden chest filled with potions and golden apples.” 

He lashed out on the wall nearest to him, relishing the pain radiating through his knuckles. The only people who knew about that chest were him, Sapnap, and George. One of them had to have helped the ex-president. 

Sapnap should still be in the Nether, he tended to be slower about gathering supplies. So that only left the new king. 

“Get out!” He snapped, throwing the heavy oak door shut behind the other. His breath was sharp and quick, making him feel lightheaded. 

His heart raced and he leaned against the door, the oak cooling his hot back. 

There was no way George would help the enemy right? He was completely loyal to Dream. He was a pussy though, Dream admitted. He didn’t even like killing animals. If he stumbled across Wilbur, of course, he would help. Despite being on opposite sides of the wars, and no matter how hard Dream had tried to get him to hate the taller man, he never had anything bad to say of him. 

He had spent years carefully cultivating their relationship, he practically sculpted the shorter man from clay. Maybe he should have isolated him, taught him better, and made him his like he wanted to. 

He made him king, for fucks sake. If he owned up to it, told him where the ex-president was maybe Dream would let him off the hook. He would still punish him though, obviously, maybe he would make him kill the other. That would teach him some loyalty. 

Dream needed to talk to him, now. 

He slammed the door shut behind him and headed towards the castle.

\------  
Philza led Sapnap and his sons back to Pogtopia. L’manburg was far too crowded and he needed to get his family on board before they could go to anyone else. 

“I don’t see why we’re trusting him.” Tommy fulminated, kicking stones off of the path. “He’s one of Dream’s bitches.” 

Technoblade hummed in agreement, scanning the tunnel in front of them. He had made this trip so many times, he didn’t bother paying attention to his compass. It was practically ingrained in his memory. He couldn’t wait till when he could stop making the trip into the dark cave. 

‘... And what about Henry? He killed Henry!”

Sapnap rolled his eyes, feeling a familiar headache that came whenever he was around the child. He always thought Tommy was a prick who needed an ass-kicking. Guilt lined his stomach slightly at the thought, but he shoved it down. Sure Tommy has had a hard, fairly eventful life, especially at 16, but he still didn’t like him. 

‘Not to mention he’s a dick.” 

Philza snorted, motioning Sapnap into their ravine.

Sapnap beheld the crevice in awe, they had built a lot in a small amount of time. It was almost impressive. Despite being evicted from their homes in the former L’Manburg, they seemed like they handled the circumstances well. 

He admired their perseverance. 

He walked carefully on the stone, ducking his head beneath lanterns and beams, basically giving himself his tour. 

“Why is there a pit right here?” He asked, scanning the cramped stone hole in curiosity. 

Tommy scowled, crossing his arms. “None of your business, big man.” 

Techno walked in between them and stared into the pit, emotionless. “That’s where we settle our disputes.” 

Sapnap’s eyebrows shot up and he took a large step away from Techno, hitting his head on a lantern. 

“Guys, focus.” Philza interrupted, ushering them away from the pit. “We have more important things to discuss.” 

“Like how we shouldn’t trust the pet killer?” Tommy argued. 

Sapnap rubbed his head and glared at the boy, “Tommy I don’t like you, you don’t like me. But we have more important things to be thinking about.” 

Tommy scoffed, “As far as I’m concerned, this is just as much your fault as it is Dream’s. Don’t act like you didn’t know what was happening.” 

Sapnap’s glare intensified, how dare he accuse him of knowing and helping potentially kill his friends. He was loyal to Dream, but not to that extent. 

Phil rubbed his temples and sighed, “Tommy, he’s helping us.” Though clearly not even the older man was completely on board. 

The tall teenager huffed, “How can we trust him? He’s been on Dream’s side for forever, now you just expect us to jump on board?”

“As much as I hate to admit it, Tommy’s right.” Techno agreed, eyes dancing between the two arguing. “This seems suspicious.” 

Sapnap looked to Philza for support, but it was clear he wasn’t going to back him up. He started feeling like the walls of the cave were closing in on him, a sure sign that soon he was about to have an anxiety attack and lose any filter he had. But when he looked at the tall child, he understood. 

Behind the blondes, angry eyes was complete and utter hurt. He just lost a brother and doesn’t know for sure that he’s alive, he reminded himself. He should be the bigger person. 

Sapnap took a deep breath, willing his skin to feel less clammy. He would explain his situation as best as he could, and if they still didn’t trust him he would find George on his own. 

“Dream and I used to be best friends. I looked up to him, even. When you’re in his inner circle, you feel proud. You feel powerful-” he explained, “-you do anything you can to stay there. But lately, it’s been different.”

Sapnap tightened his bandana, rubbing his hand through his hair. The other three men’s gazes were locked onto him, carefully searching him for any sign he was lying. 

“He’s been expecting more and more, he’s been cold. Mean. He’s been pitting his friends against each other. Then I overheard him telling Schlatt how easy it was to get Wilbur to press the button. I don’t think the explosion was Wilbur’s fault.” 

Philza took this time to cut in, “George is missing too, we think maybe they ran into each other and decided to run.” 

Technoblade and Tommy shared a look.   
‘So how do we get them back?” Tommy asked, voice quiet and his eyes fixated on the floor.

“We’re going to take down Dream once and for all,” Sapnap said, shuddering. He knew it was the right thing to do, but it didn’t make it hurt any less. “We’ll lock him up and throw away the key.” 

“-And we’re going to find Wilbur and George. Bring them home.” Philza cut in, placing a comforting hand on Sapnap’s wrist. He longed for a family like Wilbur had. A dad and brothers who would drop anything to help the other. The closest thing he had to family was George and Dream, one was missing and the other was practically a terrorist. 

“Bruhh,” Techno complained, voice completely monotone. “We just got done fighting.” 

Sapnap scoffed, turning to the pink-haired man. “You act like you hate fighting.”

“I just want to farm potatoes man.” 

Tommy laughed, the shrill sound echoing through the walls of the cave and sending shivers down Sapnap’s spine. It was like a nail on a chalkboard, he thought. 

“Sap, does Dream know you overheard him?” Philza asked, eyes lighting up in inspiration. The tone of his voice made it clear he had a plan, and Sapnap couldn’t tell how he felt about the possible implications. 

Sapnap shook his head, “He doesn’t know I'm back in the overworld.” 

“I see what you’re saying.” Techno agreed, and Tommy nodded in approval.

The raven-haired man rolled his eyes, this is why he hated this family. They were all weirdly in sync with each other. 

“Is anyone going to explain to me what you’re insinuating?” He complained, stomping his foot on the stone in an attempt to get them to focus back on him. 

Philza smirked a sight that made Sapnap’s stomach twist. He was going to regret asking, wasn’t he?

“I hope you’re a good liar. You’re heading back to Dream.” 

\----

The lights of the city were a welcome sight to the travelers, who arrived just as the sun rested on the horizon. The sky was a lovely mix of red, orange, and magenta hues. Wilbur found that the relaxing ambiance made up for the dropping temperatures. 

As they got closer the smell of freshly baked bread, cardamom and nutmeg wafted through the air, filling them with an overwhelming sense of comfort. 

Traders and villagers walked by, paying the twosome no minds. They all had their own lives and families, none of them had an idea of how important either of the travelers used to be. 

As they stepped onto the cobblestone path, George turned to Wilbur. The taller had his eyes closed, and a warm, comfortable smile was present on his face. 

He took a large breath and faced George, a large smile making a home on his face. 

“Where to, now?” He asked, leading them down the path. He had been there once before with Nikki, she had been looking for more recipes and spices for her bakery. The place was nostalgic, but not in a bad way. 

George giggled, unaware of the other’s reminiscence. They had made it, and he felt giddy with relief. He didn’t realize how worried he had been that Dream would find them until then. He felt free. 

“Should we find an Inn?” George asked, excited to sleep in a real bed. During their journey to their current destination, he had learned how much he took for granted before. He missed the stray cats that he always fed, he missed his friends, he missed his mushroom house. 

Guilt slightly presented in his head again. Maybe he should have said bye. Or left a note at least. He hoped they wouldn’t come looking for them. This is what was best for everyone. 

“We just arrived and already you want to take me to bed.” Wilbur joked, wiggling his eyebrows in a teasing manner. Any stress left George instantly, and he scoffed. His cheeks heated in embarrassment. 

“Don’t flatter yourself, Wilbur. I’m just excited to sleep on a mattress.” He retorted. He hated how easily he blushed, Sapnap and Dream always found it hilarious and would compete to see who could make him the most flustered. Wilbur didn’t even have to try. 

Wilbur held his hand to his heart in mock offense, sighing dramatically. “You wound me, your highness.” 

The shorter man glared at him and huffed. He prayed his face didn’t project how flustered he felt. “Don’t call me that.” 

“What? Your highness?” Wilbur pushed, if he noticed George’s blush he didn’t say anything. “Do you prefer ‘your majesty?’”

“I’m not king anymore, you know that right?” He replied, ignoring how his heart sped up at the nickname. He couldn’t help but wonder how other affectionate terms would sound in Wilbur’s voice, before chastising himself. He didn’t need his brain projecting his loneliness onto the only friend he had right now. 

The taller’s face went serious, and his smile dimmed. George’s heartbeat sped up, worried the other could read his thoughts. “We’re in a new place, George. You could completely start anew if that’s what you desire.” 

George’s stomach dropped. This was so much worse than Wilbur potentially knowing how lonely he was. The thought had crossed his mind, that his companion would want to separate. It hurt to think about, but it did make sense, logically. 

“Is that what you want?” He asked, attempting to hide the disappointment in his tone, his lip slightly pouted. He hated how easily he had gotten attached to the other man, and he wasn’t sure he could be completely on his own. 

Wilbur stayed stubborn and grabbed the other’s shoulders. He gazed deep into his eyes, reading his expression carefully. “I want whatever you think is best for you.” 

His whole nervous system felt like it was set on fire as the other touched him. Wilbur’s expression was completely earnest and George thought he was going to melt under his gaze.

“I-I think it would be better if we stuck together,” He stuttered, his blush deepening. His heartbeat even quicker if that was possible, the idea of Wilbur willing to sacrifice whatever he wanted to make sure George was happy made his stomach flutter. “Just in case, you know?” 

‘Just in case.” Wilbur repeated, nodding slightly. Though clearly, neither believed the reasoning. He slowly released his grip on George’s shoulders and the shorter man had to stop himself from pouting at the action. His shoulders felt cold. 

“I guess we should find an inn then, your highness.” The taller said, cheery attitude back in place and a newfound spark in his step. 

George groaned and they kept walking. He never thought he would miss ‘Gogy’ but there he was. Not that he ever truly minded the nickname. 

Eventually, they found an inn, it was in a rougher part of town and the place itself looked as if it was one bad storm from falling over, but as the sun was almost set, they went in regardless. 

The keeper of the inn looked shocked that someone wanted a room but obliged, leaving the downstairs pub to a bartender while they directed the pair to their room. The patrons of the pub spared a few confused glances, but all decided that their attention was of better use on their game of darts. 

They walked up the steps and exchanged a concerned glance as the floorboards creaked under their weight. The hallway looked like a place a family would get ax-murdered in and dust-coated every inch of the place. 

Wilbur opened the door for George and locked it behind them, sparking a curious expression. No one else had a lack of sense to stay in the building, and the only other door leading up had to be unlocked by the inn-keeper. 

“I wouldn’t be surprised if someone tried to break in,” Wilbur explained, sitting on the bed opposite of George’s. “I’m fairly certain I saw an alley-cat holding a rat at knife-point outside.” 

The shorter man laughed loudly and fell backward onto his bed. The old bed frame groaning beneath him. As bad as this place was, it was safer than their old home, and he appreciated Wilbur for trying to lighten the mood whenever he could. 

“You should have intervened, Wilbur.” He answered, attempting to contort his face to faux-seriousness before conceding to his giggles. “That poor rat is going to be traumatized.”

Wilbur rolled his eyes, joining in on the laughter. He pulled off his shoes and tossed them to the other side of the room. “I know, I know. I’m such a bad person.”

George’s laughter disappeared and a genuine expression filled his face. He was awful at comforting people and being there for them but the thought of Wilbur believing he was a bad person made him sick. He didn’t even think, he just had to say something. 

“No, you’re not.” He affirmed, making eye contact. His heart felt like it was going to beat out of his chest, and he could barely hear his voice over the rhythm. “You’re the best person I know.” 

“Thank you, George,” Wilbur replied earnestly, eyes shining in appreciation. Neither of them broke the eye contact, and George felt the regret pool in his stomach at exposing his feelings. He used to be able to hide everything, but lately more and more, he found himself slipping up. 

He needed to be more careful. He couldn’t afford to let anyone else in. 

“I’m pretty tired, I think I’m going to go to bed,” George said, breaking the silence. He made sure his face was completely emotionless and turned away from the other man. “Goodnight, Will.” 

Wilbur frowned at the shorter man’s sudden change in mood. He thought they were having a moment, but he turned off the redstone lamp and crawled under his covers regardless. “Goodnight, Gogy.” 

George pulled the covers up to his face, while he was grateful for the lack of monsters, he missed the stars. 

Wilbur’s soft snores soon filled the room. George was sure he should have been annoyed by the disruption, but he was glad the other managed to fall asleep. He needed the rest.

Besides, George hated the quiet. 

He too fell asleep soon after. 

He was in Eret’s castle, walking down the corridor. The sounds of his dress shoes clacking against the tiles echoed off of the carefully decorated walls. 

Someone much taller than him was holding his hand. Although when he tried looking up past their shoulders, it blurred. 

It didn’t bother him, however, He just leaned against the other man and smiled, he was happy. 

They continued down the hallway, the tall man leading him into a large, dark room. 

“Why are we here?” He asked, squinting up at the other man. There was nothing he needed in that room.

As he focused more on the face, it got less and less blurry. A decrepit porcelain mask came into focus, a smile etched into it. His stomach dropped and he froze, heart racing. 

“Dream?” he asked, arms shaking. “What are you doing here?”

He finally regained control of his limbs and pulled away, he attempted to open the door, but it refused to open. George clawed at the once open doorway and let out a sob. He heard a chuckle behind him and slowly turned around, fear circling in his chest. 

The other man’s head slowly tilted, like he was amused by his desperate attempts to escape. He carefully crept towards him, like a predator stalking their prey. George had never felt so powerless and small. 

George’s heart thundered in his chest, he wouldn’t be surprised if Dream could hear it. 

“What’s wrong Georgie?” He asked, a sinister smile creeping onto his face as he took off the mask. He looked like he got a sick satisfaction off of George’s fear. 

All at once the once dark room filled with light, every torch being lit at once. Every corner of the room was visible and was covered in splatters of blood. 

Once concealed by the dark were his friends. Wilbur, Sapnap, and Eret were the most prominent. They were still alive, and their screams and cries of pain filled the room. George couldn’t remember even a minute ago when the room was silent. 

Their hands were tied behind their backs, and he couldn’t help but follow the blood pools that soaked their clothes, up to their red-stained necks, and to their wounds. 

Their mouths were carved into permanent smiles, from ear to ear. Abnormal amounts of blood spilled down their faces, and with each cry, more spat out.

“What did you do to them?!” George screamed, tears flowing down his cheeks. He tried to run to help them, to try and stop the bleeding but his legs stopped moving. It was like he was encased in concrete.

Dream laughed, the sound echoing through the large room. “I did all of this for you, Georgie. Do you like it?”

He gasped awake, eyes quickly adjusting to the dark room. He was covered in a sheen of sweat, and his heart was racing. 

He wasn’t the only one awake, though. Wilbur was standing against the wall, staring out the window onto the streets below. He didn’t seem to notice George wake up.

He knew he would chastise himself for this later, but he was groggy and he needed to make sure the other man was okay. 

George carefully got out of bed and walked behind the other man. After a moment of contemplation, he leaned into him, laying his face against him. 

Wilbur flinched slightly at the unexpected contact and turned around, his eyes wide in concern.   
He scanned George’s face, noting his glassy eyes and timid stance, which raised his concern considerably. “Bad dreams?”

George nodded, looking at his fingers which were fiddling with the hem of Wilbur’s shirt. The taller man knew that was his way of reaching out and asking for comfort. 

Wilbur sighed and closed his eyes, wrapping his arms around the shorter man. “Yeah, me too.” 

‘I’m sorry.” George choked out, body trembling slightly. The guilt of the past few days along with the image of Wilbur in his dream made him want to throw up. 

Wilbur frowned, and then laid his head on top of George’s, if anyone asked he would deny it but he found the scent of the other man comforting.

“For what?” He asked softly. The last thing he ever wanted was to make anyone feel like his actions were their fault. 

George pulled away from the taller man, missing his disappointed frown, and sat back on his bed. He refused to make eye contact, knowing that if he did he would end up spilling more that he didn’t want to. Unfortunately, Wilbur had other plans. 

“Hey, no don’t do that.” Wilbur consoled, sitting next to him. He placed his hand on the other’s cheek, forcing him to reciprocate eye contact. “Talk to me.” 

George’s lip quivered, the deep voice breaking his resolve way too easy. “I should have stopped him. I should have known.” 

“None of this is your fault, George,” Wilbur replied, pulling him into another hug. He hated himself for not being able to convince him. 

“Will you stay with me?” He asked shyly, warmth burning his cheeks. The taller man felt his pride grow, George was getting more comfortable with him. 

Wilbur didn’t mind staying, he just readjusted them so they were laying down. His arms were wrapped around George, pulling him close. He rested his head on his neck, and inhaled deeply, comfort surrounding him. 

George woke up first, well after the sun rose. After they had fallen asleep together he didn’t have any more nightmares, and from the peaceful expression on Wilbur’s face, he didn’t either. Despite feeling awkward in Wilbur’s arms, he couldn’t help but appreciate the warm sunlight beaming on his face. 

He’s angelic, George thought. 

He attempted to pull off the other man’s arms, but Wilbur had a death grip on him. George stifled a groan, not wanting to wake the other. He tried to roll away from him, hoping his grip would loosen, but in his sleep the taller man pulled him closer, this time spooning George and holding him even tighter. 

His cheeks burned deeply at their new position, and he gave up on trying to move. George knew Wilbur was way taller than him, but being in his arms made him feel even smaller. It wasn’t the same feeling that he had in his dream, where he felt cornered, instead he felt safe. 

He closed his eyes, if he had to wait for Wilbur to wake up he might as well get some more sleep. 

An hour or so later he woke up, by himself, the bathroom door shut and water running. He cursed the pang of disappointment in his chest at waking up alone and got up. 

When Wilbur emerged from the bathroom, neither mentioned the night before, they just went to find breakfast.

“I saw a small shop with guitars on our way in yesterday,” Wilbur mentioned as they ate. “Do you want to check it out with me?”

George smiled, the image of Wilbur playing the instrument filling his mind. “I think I’ll leave you to it, I’m going to go get some supplies.” 

“Are you sure?” Wilbur asked, voice dripping in concern. He knew he didn’t mean to come across as patronizing but It made George cringe. He didn’t need anyone to worry about him, especially Wilbur. He had enough on his plate. 

“I’ll be fine,” George replied, sounding a little snappy. Wilbur’s eyebrows rose, but he didn’t say anything. He eventually conceded and left him alone for the time being. 

After they parted ways, images of his dream filled George’s mind. The smiles carved into his friend’s faces made him shudder. He hoped Dream would never find him, he would surely hurt him in some way for being unloyal. He knew to make sure he would never be found he would never be able to stay in one place for long. Wilbur deserved better than that. 

He turned a corner, hoping to see the same farmers market he saw on his way in but upon seeing the empty street with few hagglers, he knew he was in the wrong place. 

George turned around, deciding to just go back to the inn and work his way to the center of the town from there. Something snapped behind him, but he didn’t pay it any attention. He hoped Wilbur found a guitar he liked, it would surely boost his mood. 

He heard another loud noise, this time a lot closer. His heart hammered in his chest, he knew he was just being paranoid, but he would feel a lot more comfortable in a more public space. He was just about to turn another corner when a blade pressed against his neck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really appreciate any feedback :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George is attacked, Wilbur comforts him. 
> 
> Dream and Sapnap reunite, and a new citizen of the DreamSMP inserts himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is rather short, and it was definitely going to go another way but I started projecting haha. It will all tie in later though. 
> 
> TW// Attempted sexual assault

There was something poetic about having a knife held to your neck. Especially in these circumstances. George had rarely been threatened in the DreamSMP, not only because they were afraid to mess with Dream’s “right-hand man” but because he too had a reputation. He may not have been as powerful or as merciless and the masked man, but he spent a lot of hours improving his fighting and archery. He was the best shot in the Dream team, by far. 

Now he was in a disgusting, cramped alley, and a blade threatened to slice his throat by someone who clearly didn’t know who he was. That meant the criminal would have no qualms about ending his life then and there. He swallowed nervously, the cold metal pressuring his neck uncomfortably as he did so. 

“Don’t try anything, or I’ll kill you. No hesitation.” The other man said, pressing his chest against his back. George didn’t bother to hold back a grimace as the scent of the other man hit him. His musk could only be compared to sweat, oil, and whiskey. The putrid scent burned his nose. “There’s no reason for this to be any harder than it has to be.” 

George rolled his eyes, the severity of the situation not lost on him but he couldn’t help but think it was ironic. He had been in the town less than 24 hours and someone was already trying to kill him. 

He thought about his options for a moment, but then he froze. It could be one of Dream’s men. 

“Who sent you here?” He asked, forcing his voice to remain monotonous. He pulled away from the knife as much as possible, but it didn’t help as it just put him closer to the man. His gangly beard pricked his neck and his mouth curled in disgust. 

The offender placed his hand on George’s side, holding painfully tight. He was certain there would be bruises there tomorrow. He felt vomit rising in his throat, despite people passing the alley, no one came to help. It was clear they minded their business, not wanting to get hurt. 

He didn’t anticipate needing a weapon today, and like an idiot, he left all of his by his bed. He scanned the alley, but nothing stuck out to him. He was completely screwed. 

“No one had to send me here.” The criminal snarled, jutting George slightly into the blade. He winced and screwed his eyes shut. His heart was racing, and he hoped that if something did happen to him that Wilbur would be okay. Maybe if he stayed with Dream this wouldn’t have happened, his brain thought cruelly. He couldn’t help but wonder if the other man missed him, or even noticed he was gone. “I saw a cute little boy all by himself and knew I just had to introduce myself.” 

George cringed, his body refusing to cooperate with his mind's desperate pleas for escape. He cursed himself for not bringing his weapons, for separating from Wilbur, for getting lost. As the offender started moving his hand from his side and down his chest he swallowed down his fear and kicked behind him as hard as he could. He was rewarded with his attacker crying out in pain and temporarily lightening the pressure on his neck. 

Now was his chance, he thought. He twisted his body away from the offender and attempted to grab the knife, but his attacker regained his composure, a newfound look of fury in his eyes. He shoved George roughly into the brick wall, holding the knife close enough to draw blood. 

“You’re a little fucking prick aren’t you?” The attacker spat, leaning closer towards him. George’s eyes watered and he shut them again, not wanting to see what was about to happen. The back of his head ached from being slammed against the wall, and his neck stung. He felt the warm liquid drip down the column of his throat and he clawed at the brick behind him desperately. 

He felt a hand grope at his thigh, and a hot, sticky breath panted against his neck. When all at once it was ripped from him, the knife against his neck clattered on the ground, the hand on his thigh was gone and the breath had disappeared. He heard a thud in front of him, and his eyes shot open. 

His attacker was on the ground, groaning and holding his head, in fetal position. Wilbur stood above him. The look in his friend’s eyes was murderous and even throughout the wars, George had never seen him this angry. He stood imposingly above the attacker, and bent down so he was kneeling on top of his throat. 

George stood frozen in place, still clutching the wall like he was trying to make himself as small as possible. His eyes were wide and mouth agape, his heart was still racing and he couldn’t bring himself to do anything but watch the scene unfold in front of him. 

Wilbur grabbed the hair of the attacker and pulled him up close to him, his other hand picking up the knife that laid still on the ground. He waved it menacingly in front of the other and then held it to his neck, mimicking the action he had done to George minutes before. 

“You have a lot of nerve trying to hurt George.” Wilbur glowered, pulling his hair back so more of his neck was exposed. “You may not know us, but I know your type.” 

Wilbur’s eyes briefly flashed to George, scanning his injury’s and planning on what to say next. Anger radiated off of him, and the smaller man was grateful it wasn’t directed at him. 

“You think you’re so tough, and yet you have to resort to threatening people in alleys in order to get any.” Wilbur pressed harder against his throat, ignoring the man's pleas for forgiveness. “The world is better without you in it.” 

When he finished speaking he pulled the knife away and suddenly sliced a long cut in his cheek. He grinned at the strangled gasp from the man beneath him. “I don’t want him to see me kill you, but next time I won’t hesitate.” 

He released his grasp, dropping him back to the ground. The attacker immediately stood up and ran, leaving Wilbur, who was wiping his hands on his jeans, and George who was still standing wide-eyed and breathing heavy. 

Wilbur threw the knife down the alley and carefully walked to the shorter man, not wanting to scare him any more than he already was. He slowly raised his hands and opened his arms, giving the other man an opportunity to hug him if he felt comfortable doing so. 

He stood there awkwardly for a moment, and he considered backing away and just talking to George when the smaller man launched into his embrace. He felt the tears soon start seeping through his shirt, and heard him releasing small, pained whimpers. He gently laid his hands on George’s back, rubbing small circles. 

“Let’s go back to the inn and out of this wretched alley,” Wilbur said, breaking away. George nodded, wiping the tears off his cheek and willing himself to keep it together at least until they were back. His brain was finally processing what had just happened and his legs felt weak. 

Clearly, Wilbur noticed, and grabbed his hand, interlocking their fingers. “Lean against me, George, it’s okay.” 

George didn’t have the energy to fight him and let Wilbur carry most of his weight. The taller man guided them back to their room, staying quiet for almost the entire way back. Only briefly asking the other if there were any injuries he missed that needed attention, which George shook his head at. 

He never thought he’d find comfort or at home in the small inn, but the sight of the old building brought a comfort he missed. A real home, somewhere that was his. 

They ignored the curious glance of the inn-keeper and went straight to their room. Not sparing a second thought to the creaky stairs or macabre hall. 

The second Wilbur closed the door, George was back in his arms, unprompted. While Wilbur was glad he felt more comfortable around him, he wished it was because of better circumstances.

George was sniffling in his chest, and Wilbur’s heart clenched at the sound. He should never have left him. He should have been there to protect him. He would never leave his side again. 

“I’m sorry I left,” Wilbur admitted, leaning his head to fall onto George’s, lightly kissing his hair. “I’m going to keep you safe from now on, I promise.” 

George looked up, leaving their faces with barely any space between them. Neither moved back. “How’d you find me?” 

Wilbur thought back to what he did when they separated this morning and replied honestly. “I forgot my wallet at the bakery, then when I took another way to the shop I passed the alley-way. It was purely by chance.” 

The taller slowly lifted his hands, giving his companion enough notice to back out if he wanted, and ran his fingers through his hair. Wilbur carefully untangled the other’s hair with his fingers. Digits delicately massaged his scalp as he went. George closed his eyes and leaned into his chest, his whimpers subsiding. 

“The thought of losing you scares me,” Wilbur said softly, moving his hands to George’s jaw and tilting him so they were back to facing each other. The smaller’s eyes were red and tears stained his cheeks, but Wilbur still found him awfully beautiful. He glanced to his lips without thinking, admiring how perfectly rosy they were. 

George sucked in a breath and watched the other man’s expression carefully, breath catching in his throat when Wilbur’s gaze went to his lips then back to his eyes. He involuntarily licked his lips, noting how the taller man clenched his jaw as he did so. 

“Thank you for rescuing me,” George replied, a light blush dusting his face. He was attempting to reciprocate the openness of his companion, and he considered saying more but he saw a small, relieved smile take Wilbur’s face and knew he didn’t need to. 

Gradually Wilbur pulled away, and George hated how disappointed he was by that. His stomach growled, reminding him that it had been hours since they ate breakfast. Wilbur chuckled, grabbing his jacket. 

“Let’s go get you some food, yeah?” The ex-president asked, eyes soft. “If you want to, of course. I’d offer to go get it, but I don’t want to leave you.” 

George smiled appreciatively at how caring his companion was and nodded. As much as he hated feeling helpless, he didn’t want to be alone. He grabbed his coat and satchel. He noticed Wilbur holding his hand out for him, and he interlocked his fingers without much second thought. 

\----------

Dream stood in front of the throne, completely still. He stared at the piece of gold laying on the seat, reflecting his mask, almost like it was mocking him. He picked up and threw the offending piece of headwear as hard as he could, the sound echoing through the empty room. 

The chunk of gold laid on the ground, looking almost untouched spare one of gem that cracked. Next was the cushion on the throne, the red velvet taunting him. He ripped the seams of the carefully sewn fabric, before throwing that in the opposite direction.

His vision was red and his thoughts bounced around in his head, echoing and mocking just like the crown did. He lashed out at the throne, groaning as he re-injured his knuckles. 

“This is what you get for leaving him to adjust.” He scolded himself. He should have been there every second since he crowned George king, been a ‘comforting’ presence for him to rely on. 

He fell back against the wall, relishing how the cool stone soothed his skin. He would get him back. George was his. He would make sure he could never forget that. 

Dream pushed himself off of the wall and collected himself. He needed to think logically if he was going to get George out of Wilbur’s grasp. He would see, he’s just being manipulated. 

He stormed out of the castle, a smug smile filling his face. He had resources Wilbur couldn’t dream of. He should have learned that by now, he could never compete. 

Maybe that’s what happened, he mused. Wilbur must have been looking for revenge and had looked for his Georgie because of such. That must be it. 

He would make sure he was taken care of, he chuckled, heading towards Manburg. In a manner that not even a healing potion would save him from. 

He turned on the path near Tommy’s house, ready to find the members of Wilbur’s stupid family and find out where he was. The family was so stupidly close, there was no way none of them knew where the ex-president was hiding. 

He was stopped in his tracks, however when he saw Sapnap coming from the opposite direction. The elder didn’t know he was back from the nether. The younger boy froze momentarily when he saw Dream, but then a large smile took his place and he ran towards him, throwing him in a hug. 

Dream rolled his eyes, his mask covering any expression he could be showing. He pulled away from Sapnap, scanning him carefully. His satchel of blaze rods hung from his shoulder, but the portal was far from them. 

“Sapnap.” He said, trying his best to come across as friendly. ‘When did you get back?”

The younger’s smile dimmed and his eyebrows furrowed, he pulled Dream to the side of the pathway. “Not long ago. I heard about L’Manburg, and I had to see it for myself.” 

“Is that so?” Dream scrutinized eyeing the other man carefully. If George was willing to help Wilbur, manipulation or not, who was to say Sapnap wasn’t. 

The younger chuckled nervously, eyes flickering nervously from the ground to Dream, to his side, then back again. He looked like he was desperately trying to think of what to say. 

Dream’s eyebrows furrowed, and he took a step closer to the other man. “Is everything alright, Sap?” 

“W-Why are you being so weird?” He stuttered, and the alarms in Dream’s head blared loudly. He took another step forward, grinning when Sapnap swallowed and clenched his jaw, it was his nervous tick. 

Suddenly a door slammed next to them, and a brunette a bit shorter than Dream popped out. Dream was fairly certain his name was Karl, he was new around the DreamSMP but Dream didn’t have a good read on him yet. 

“There you are, babe!” He exclaimed, a loud, bubbly laugh following his sentence. Dream frowned at his bright, multi-colored hoodie. No person should be comfortable wearing that, it was like a target, it was surely impossible to sneak around in it. 

“Babe?” Dream asked, focusing back on Sapnap, who accepted a kiss on the cheek from ‘Karl’, blushing profusely. 

The brunette didn’t seem to notice he was imposing on their conversation, that or he didn’t care.

“I just realized this guy dropped one of his honking blaze-rod-thingies. I’m glad I didn’t have to track him down.” He giggled. Dream found that he hated the sound, and wanted it to stop. He watched the brunette hand Sapnap a glowing rod, who quickly put it in his satchel. 

The raven-haired man coughed, cheeks still bright red. “Thanks… Cutie.” 

Dream was even more confused than before, he was certain he had never seen Sapnap and Karl in the same place together. “What’s going on?” 

Karl smiled brightly at the blonde, oblivious to the tension encasing the group, and leaned on Sapnap’s shoulder. “Has Sap not told you, yet?” 

“I’m sorry, babe. I was going to today.” The shorter man replied, wrapping his arm around the brunette. “Dream, uh- this is my boyfriend…” 

“Karl.” He interrupted, holding his hand out. “I’m pleased to finally meet you.” 

The blonde accepted his handshake, attempting to come across as friendly.

“I’m sorry for keeping it from you.” The raven-haired man apologized, ruffling Karl’s hair, who giggled profusely at the action. 

Dream cringed at the affection between the two. If Sapnap’s secret was a hidden boyfriend, he could handle that. No matter how annoying he found him. He needed to focus on more important things. 

“It’s fine, Sap.” He replied. The younger smiled, relief clear on his face at being forgiven. Why couldn’t George be as obedient as him? “I’m just in a bad mood, George is missing and Wilbur is proving to be a pain in my ass.” 

“Wait, George is missing?” Sapnap asked, eyes wide. He lowered his hand from Karl’s hair and grasped at his wrist like he needed support. “What happened?”

Dream groaned and leaned back, facing the sky. He didn’t want to tell Sapnap everything, just in case, but he could use his help. “I think Wilbur is manipulating him, we need to find him asap.”

Karl rubbed at Sapnap’s side, comfortingly, and nodded. “We’ll do everything we can.” 

The blonde willed away a headache, he would definitely have to talk to Sapnap about his choice in men later. “Why don’t you two go store the blaze rods, then meet me in Manburg.” 

“Why Manburg?” Sapnap asked. 

“Someone there has to know where Wilbur is, and I believe where he is, so is George.” 

Sapnap and Karl both nodded in understanding, and Dream didn’t think he could stomach the couple any longer. 

“I’ll see you there.” He said, continuing down the path and scanning down on the land for the people he was looking for. 

As soon as he was gone, Sapnap pulled away from the other man, Karl, was his name he was pretty sure. 

The brunette did the same, frowning and reaching up to fix his hair. 

“What the hell was that?” The younger questioned, staring at the other man incredulously. 

Karl glared at him, “I heard you guys from inside my house, you're incredibly loud.” 

Sapnap scoffed, running his hands over his face. The stranger had no right to be butting in his business. “So you just decided to intervene?” 

“You should be thanking me for it, you’re a terrible liar,” he replied, reaching past Sapnap and into his bag, grabbing his blaze rod back. “I’m not dumb, I may be new here but I’ve made observations. You need my help.” 

“I don’t need anything, thank you very much.” The raven-haired man retorted, shooting the other man a glare and turning to go store the blaze rods. 

Karl groaned, chasing after him, “Well, he thinks we’re together now, like it or not. We’re going to have to keep it up unless you want him questioning why you were in the wrong place at the wrong time. Which, why were you in L’Manburg, by the way?”

“None of your business, honey,” Sapnap replied, dripping in sarcasm. This made things so much more difficult than they needed to be, but he did have to admit, Dream would have seen right through him. 

“It is now, babe.” Karl retorted, skipping ahead of his counterpart. “You’ll have to fill me in sooner or later.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's play a game called 'how many tropes can I fit into one story?' 
> 
> Anyways we love Karl <3


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy fills in Tubbo.
> 
> Dream visits L'Manburg and enlists the help of a bounty hunter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all have no idea how hard it is trying to find roles for everyone in the SMP and still having it fit their personalities.

The first thing Tommy did when he got back to L’Manburg was find Tubbo. When he promised his dad he wouldn’t tell anyone about Wilbur, it obviously excluded his best friend. His dad should have known better, honestly. 

His shorter friend sat on a fence, talking to Eret. Tommy frowned as he walked in their direction. No matter how much time passed he would never trust Eret again. 

“Tubbo!” He called, gathering the brunette's attention. 

He turned around sharply and scanned the direction from where the voice came, smiling when he locked eyes with his best friend. Tubbo promptly said his goodbyes to Eret and ran towards Tommy, meeting him halfway on the freshly laid grass.

“Tommy!” He exclaimed. He accepted a hug from the blonde, as much crap as Tommy gave him for being clingy, he knew it was really him. Not that he minded, of course. “Where did you guys go?”

Tommy was very obviously scanning the people around them, Tubbo’s eyebrows furrowed. They had L’manburg back, Schlatt was gone, so why was he trying to be secretive? 

“Tommy?” He asked, watching his taller friend’s expression closely. His jaw was clenched and his bottom lip was jutted out in a pout. Tubbo’s heart sank, something was wrong. 

‘Shh-” The blonde interrupted, his eyes wide. He raised his hands up in a dismissive gesture. “Tubbo, you’re going to give us away.” 

The shorter boy’s eyes rolled and he huffed, “What are you talking about?” 

Tommy didn’t answer, just ushered the brunette to a section of the construction that wasn’t as crowded. His eyes were wide and he leaned closer to his friend, the position accentuating the curve of his neck and terrible posture. 

“Wilbur is alive.” Tommy whisper-yelled. Tubbo winced, despite the serious circumstances, the blonde was still loud. 

Tubbo’s eyes dilated and his mouth opened and closed, any words that rose in his throat died as they hit his tongue, leaving him speechless. He watched Wilbur get stabbed, there was no way. 

“But-” 

“-I’m not done. Don’t interrupt me.” Tommy glared, scanning their surroundings once again. His eyes focused on a small flock of pigeons resting on the pavement near-by and squinted. He raised his arms and motioned suddenly, scaring them away.

“Was that necessary?” Tubbo replied, watching the birds land on the roof of Fundy’s half-constructed house. 

“Yes, it was.” He answered, “Fundy is part fox, Wilbur slept with a salmon, and then there’s whatever the hell Nikki and Ranboo are. Would a pigeon-person be so crazy?” 

Tubbo shrugged, he did have a point. Mob/Human hybrids were exceptionally common in L’Manburg. 

“Anyways-” He continued, waving his hands animatedly, “-Wilbur is alive,” 

“-yeah you told me that already.” 

Tommy leaned back and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Tubbo I swear to god if you keep interrupting me I’m going to stab something.” 

The brunette raised his hands in surrender and nodded for him to continue. 

The blonde took in a deep breath and started whispering, “Dream was behind it all. Like the arsehole he is. And guess what?” 

“What?” 

“Oh my god, Tubbo. I didn’t actually want you to answer.” 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Keep going.” 

“So you know how the green-bastard made Gogy king?” 

Tubbo nodded, that’s why Eret was back on their side. He was glad, he missed being friends with them. 

“- Well apparently my brother and Gogy ran away together.” 

‘Oh my god, not Gogy.” Tubbo replied sarcastically, crossing his arms around his chest. It wasn’t that he didn’t like the man, he didn’t really know him. He just thought it was funny watching almost everyone stare at the short man like he was some sort of God or something. 

Tommy snorted, a smile flashing briefly on his face before making it serious again. “I almost forgot. Sapnap left Dream’s side! He is our spy now!” 

“What?!” 

“-Shhhh! You’re so loud!” 

“You’re loud.” Tubbo retorted. Tommy looked about to respond when a loud commotion grabbed their attention. 

The boys could hear Philza yelling from amidst the construction, “Get the fuck away from me before I kill you!”

Tommy and Tubbo shared a concerned look before running towards the man. There stood Dream, standing arrogant as ever, looking over L’Manburg. Philza and Technoblade stood not far from him, both clutching their sword and ax, respectively. 

“You going to come after me with the same sword you hurt your own son with? From what I recall you were the one who stabbed him, not me.” Dream taunted, walking closer like he wasn’t the slightest bit afraid. 

“You’re in L”Manburg territory now Dream. You can’t intimidate us!” Tommy yelled, his hands clenched at his sides. 

His head tilted when he heard Tommy’s voice and he turned to face him, still keeping the other’s in his view. The mask sent shivers down his spine, he was certain Dream was smirking, despite not being able to see his face. 

“Tommy.” He said, chipper as ever. 

The blonde’s heart was racing, and he reached for his knife. The man in front of him was the cause of all of this. His brother was hurt and missing because of him. He wanted revenge. Needed it. 

Tubbo seemed to notice and grabbed his wrist, shaking his head. His eyes pleaded for him not to start something. It stopped him temporarily, bringing a tiny bit of sanity back into his head. 

“Don’t talk to him. Tommy, Tubbo come here.” Philza reprimanded, but the boys were frozen in place. One with rage and the other with fear. 

Dream laughed, the sound ringing in Tommy’s ears. The fog was filling his mind, again and he grasped his knife even tighter. He took a step forward, glaring at the masked man. 

A shadow emerged from behind one of the stacks of logs. Tommy should have known, bad guys always stick together. 

Schlatt walked to dream, accepting a sword from the man. His mutton chops were longer than the last time he saw him, and his horns stuck out from his messy hair. His suit was completely clean, not a single wrinkle dared to appear. 

“That’s adorable.” The horned man grinned, staring the blonde down. From the corner of his eye, he could see Techno and Phil tense and behind him, Quackity gasped, he had no idea he was there. 

‘Why are you here?” Tubbo asked, his voice unsteady. Tommy was reminded of how much Schlatt put his friend through. His speech where he held him at the end of his crossbow, threatening him in front of all of their friends. His skin burned, he wasn’t the only one who needed justice. 

“Why are you here?” He mocked, rubbing at his eyes dramatically. Dream laughed maniacally behind him, egging him on. “Look at this little guy, trying so hard to be presidential.” 

Tubbo whimpered, recoiling slightly. 

‘Stop it!” Tommy yelled. His heart was beating so loud he thought it was going to explode. The nerve of this man -- no one talked to his best friend like that. 

“You need to leave. Now.” Philza interrupted, moving closer and raising his weapon. Ready to strike if he needed. 

Quackity walked closer to the group, eyes not leaving Schlatt. He crossed his arms and frowned, attempting to come across as intimidating, “Get the hell out of here, man.” 

Dream chuckled, and Schlatt walked closer to Quackity, stopping a few feet in front of him. He tilted his head and smirked, hand coming up to graze his cheek. Everyone took a breath and the shorter man closed his eyes, preparing himself for whatever could come next. “I know you miss me, Quackity.” 

Quackity inhaled sharply, and his nose curled up in disgust. Schlatt’s smirk morphed into a smug smile, relishing in the power he still had over the younger man. 

Tommy couldn’t take anymore and got in between them, he pushed Schlatt away from Quackity and glared, holding his knife up and giving his friend enough time to back away. “Don’t talk to Big Q like that.” 

Schlatt smirked, no ounce of fear or intimidation present in his body language. He looked over Tommy’s shoulder pointedly and directly at Tubbo. The boy cowering at his fierce gaze. It felt like he was back on the podium, trapped in that wretched box. 

“What about you, Tubbo? Do you miss me?” 

“That’s enough,” Philza yelled, coming forward to pull Schlatt away from the boys. “Techno, take Tommy and Tubbo elsewhere.” 

Technoblade came to them and attempted to grab Tommy’s wrist but the tall blonde weaved out of his way, dodging his hand. He wasn’t going to sit by again when he could get justice for Wilbur right then and there. He could take them. 

“Tommy!” He heard Techno call, but he ignored it. He ran towards Dream, knife ready. No one hurt his family and got away with it.

When he got within range he lunged forward, aiming straight for the bastard's chest. He could faintly hear his friends and family call out for him, but it didn’t matter. 

Dream leapt out of the way at the last second, grabbing his arm and pinning it behind him. The knife that he had been holding moments before was being pressed against his throat and he was being held in a death grip. 

Schlatt did a similar move, quickly moving to Tubbo and mimicking the hold Dream had on Tommy. Tubbo let out a strangled cry, hands grasping at the arms holding him. 

“Now, now, let’s calm down.” Dream said, mask staring blankly from behind Tommy. 

The land of L’Manburg was completely silent, the wind was still, the people quiet, not even the rodents dared squeak. The tension in the air was so thick they could cut it with one of their blades. 

“Let go of them.” Philza spat. He was facing Dream and Techno was facing Schlatt, both ready to attack and defend the boys. They weren’t about to lose another member of their family. 

Dream maneuvered the blade just enough to prick Tommy’s skin. The teenager winced as he felt blood drip down his throat. Maybe he didn’t think this through. 

Philza noticed immediately, glare intensifying. He readjusted his sword, and practically growled at Dream in fury. 

Tubbo was crying, light sobs racking through his body, and Tommy wished he had gone after Schlatt instead. He surely could have slit that bastard's throat. No one would miss him. 

“What do you want?” Tommy ground out, keeping his eyes on Tubbo and talking low so the knife wouldn’t do any more damage. 

Dream chuckled and tilted his neck in approval, “That’s the spirit.” 

“Uh hey, guys?” A quiet, unsure voice spoke. Tommy’s eyebrows furrowed and he tilted his head, he didn’t recognize the voice and tried to see who it was, but Dream’s hold on him made it impossible. 

Dream scoffed quietly against him, clearly he recognized it. 

“Karl, Sapnap.” Dream said, tilting his face to face the path. Tommy grumbled when his mask dug into his shoulder uncomfortably, which his captor responded to by pressing harder. Who the hell was Karl?

“What the hell is going on Dream? Did they refuse to tell you where Wilbur is?” Sapnap asked, scanning the situation in front of him. He sighed, he had left him alone for five minutes and he already had someone at knife point. 

Dream groaned, and Tommy’s eyebrows raised. That’s why he was here. He thought they were hiding Wilbur. Funny, he thought, they sent Sapnap undercover to find out the same thing. 

“We haven’t gotten there, yet.” Dream replied, releasing his grip on Tommy and throwing him onto the ground. He flashed the knife arrogantly, checking it out, “I think I’ll hang onto this for you.”

Tommy growled but begrudgingly got up. He kept his glare fixed on Dream’s mask, and refused to move away, “Tell Schlatt to let him go.” 

Dream nodded to the horned man, and he released his grip on Tubbo, who fell to the ground, hugging his knees. Nikki ran to him soon after to comfort the boy. 

“As Sapnap said, we’re looking for Wilbur.” Dream said, “Where is he?” 

Philza scoffed and gripped his sword tighter, he wasn’t sure how much he should admit he knew. He decided it was best to play dumb, “He’s dead.” 

Dream clicked his tongue in disapproval, “We both know that’s not true, Phil.” 

“What are you talking about?” Tommy asked, trying his best to go along with his dad. He had to convince Dream they had no idea what happened. But if not even Dream’s soldiers could find Wilbur and George, how were they supposed to? They had to be far. 

Dream’s jaw clenched, he was so tense Tommy could see the muscles in his neck pulse. He was close to losing it, he wondered how much it would take for him to finally crack. 

“Stop lying to me!” He snapped. Sapnap flinched, stepping back slightly, and looked at the ground. The man on Sapnap’s arm, which Tommy forgot about for a minute, stared at him with heavy concern. He’d have to ask him about that.

“- I know you’re hiding them. It’ll be easier if you just tell me where they are.” 

“Them?” Techno asked. Tommy had to stop himself from smirking at his brother, no one else could tell when he was lying, his monotonous voice always giving him leverage, but he did. 

“Wilbur took George. And when I find them, with or without your help, I will kill him.” Dream ranted, waving the knife around as he spoke, “I was willing to be lenient if any of you admitted to me where they are, but now I won’t.” 

“It sounds like Gogy just got tired of you.” The blonde said. He couldn’t help but push Dream’s buttons, especially right now. The disgruntled sound he made was music to Tommy’s ears and he smirked, relishing the power he had gained.

“His name is George.” Dream ground out, irritation radiating through his every breath. 

Sapnap stepped forward, releasing the brunette from his grasp, and placed a hand on Dream’s shoulder. He rubbed it comfortingly, attempting to put an end to Dream’s inevitable pissing contest. “They aren’t going to come clean, let’s just go.” 

Karl nodded eagerly, mumbling his agreements, he looked just shy of crying. He clearly isn’t built for war, Tommy thought. 

Dream scoffed but eventually turned around, and the group left, leaving L’Manburg. Tommy refused to leave the spot until they were out of his view. He heard his dad and Tubbo get closer to him and he braced. 

“Tommy!” Philza yelled, and he flinched. This lecture wouldn’t be fun. 

\--------

The Dream Team, or what was left of it, sat in the castle. Schlatt had disappeared, and Dream was waiting at the entrance for someone who he claimed could help. That left Karl and Sapnap sitting by themselves in a large room, waiting. 

Karl didn’t know what he got himself into. All he wanted was to help Sapnap, and in less than a day he had already seen Dream holding a knife to someone’s neck. He definitely wasn’t expecting this when he woke up this morning. 

He wanted friends, but this was probably the wrong way to go about it. 

Sapnap sat against the wall, leaning back against it and his eyes closed. Karl didn’t know the first thing about what was going on, but his gut told him he was doing the right thing. He thought about his best friend, Chris. What would he say?

Probably something cheesy, like “Just follow your heart, Karl.” He’d be right though.  
He sat next to Sapnap, ignoring his huff of protest. 

“Are you going to explain to me what’s going on?” He asked carefully, hoping the other wouldn’t get defensive again. When Karl met Chris, they were best friends almost instantly, why was this taking so long?

“No.”

Karl rolled his eyes and drummed his fingers on his knees, looking around the castle in boredom. After a minute he got bored of that and picked up a little piece of stone that had chipped off the wall, and decided to carve little smiley faces in the tile beneath him. He thought they were pretty cute, if he said so himself. 

“Can you stop?” Sapnap groaned, peeking one eye to see what he was doing. 

“No,” Karl replied, mimicking Sapnap. He was prepared to carve smiley faces all night long, if that meant the other man would open up to him. “Not until you tell me what’s going on.” 

“You shouldn’t have gotten involved,” He replied, closing his eyes again and attempting to drown out the scratching noises. This Karl guy was an enigma to him, and he couldn’t seem to remember hours earlier when he had no idea he existed. 

The brunette scoffed, dropping the stone, crossing his arms around his chest and puffing his cheeks, “It’s too late for that, handsome.” 

Sapnap cursed internally, his cheeks warming with the slightest shade of pink. Who the hell did this guy think he was? “No one is around, you don’t need to use pet names.” 

“I was just telling the truth.” karl replied honestly. He saw his companion blush and the corners of his lips twisted upwards. He was chipping through his walls, and it made his heart flutter. 

“George is one of my best friends,” Sapnap explained half-heartedly, opening his eyes and staring in front of him. His cheeks were still dusted with the slightest touch of pink and he smiled slightly talking about his friend, before twisting into a frown, “He’s missing.” 

Karl felt pride grow in his stomach, it wasn’t much but it was a starting point. Hopefully, soon he’d warm up to him. 

“-Dream is the reason, so we’re handling it.” 

“We?” Karl asked, curiosity flowing through his veins. He knew Sapnap was lying to Dream, but he didn’t understand the extent of which. 

Everything in the DreamSMP and L’Manburg was so overly-complicated. It annoyed and pleased him at the same time. He moved because he was bored, needed something new, so at least this would give him something to do. 

He couldn’t lie, Sapnap was pretty cute. That helped too. 

The door shot open and Dream rushed through, a hooded figure following slightly behind. They shut the door and Karl took that as a sign to stand up. He reached down for Sapnap’s hand, staying close to him. 

The hooded figure unraveled a map on the table in the middle of the room, and Dream stood beside him, scanning it. 

“Karl, Sapnap, this is HBomb. He’s a bounty hunter.” Dream introduced, still focusing on the map. Karl shook his hand, politely and offered a curt smile. The man looked way too kind to be a bounty hunter. 

“A bounty hunter?” Sapnap huffed, puffing out his chest. “No offense, HBomb, but if none of Dream’s men could find George, what makes you think you can?” 

Karl smiled slightly at his ‘boyfriends’ protective tone. Clearly, he cares about this George guy a lot. Hopefully, he could meet him one day. He knew nothing about the guy but he had a feeling they’d get along. 

“Sapnap.” Dream chastised, and Karl frowned. He already didn’t like him, but seeing Sapnap flinch earlier, and hearing the masked man get mad for no reason, made him like him even less. “Sorry about him, he’s just pissy.” 

HBomb cleared his throat and shifted his gaze between the group awkwardly. Clearly not happy about being stuck in the middle of the murderous leader of the DreamSMP and his right hand man. 

“Uh- Well, I hate to brag but there hasn’t been a target I haven’t found yet. And I'm not about to break that streak.” He explained confidently, despite how uncomfortable he was. 

“You’ll be heavily compensated for your work once both men are delivered to me.” Dream said, handing him some flyers with George and Wilbur’s portraits. “George I want unharmed, but the taller one you can have a little fun with.” 

HBomb’s eyebrow raised, but he stayed quiet, folding the flyers and sliding them into his jacket. He didn’t get off on pain, all he cared about was completing his job. 

“You’re welcome to the castle’s armory, kitchen, and stables. Whatever you need.” 

The hooded man politely declined Dream’s offers, stating that he had everything he would need. 

Sapnap felt bad about Wilbur, but he knew the taller man could hold his own. He managed to survive this long, he would manage. At least Dream was keeping him alive. 

Karl and Sapnap followed him out of the castle and watched him take off on horseback. He claimed to already have leads, which surprised all of them, but they didn’t ask questions. He was known for his connections with all of the major crime rings. 

He hoped they could make a plan for Dream before George and Wilbur were found. If HBomb did know where they were and brought them back, they’d have to act swiftly and precisely to get Dream captured before he hurt them. He was far too smart, anything less than the perfect plan and he would see it coming from a mile away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know, there's no George and Wilbur, but this was going to be way too long if I included them. They'll have some very nice bonding time next time hehe


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George and Wilbur meet HBomb. 
> 
> Sapnap and George think about who they used to be. 
> 
> Sapnap fills in SBI. 
> 
> Schlatt formally introduces himself to Karl.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long, lost all motivation haha
> 
> I think I finally have an idea of where I want this to go though, so POG
> 
> Can we also talk about how hard it is to catch up on the lore of the DreamSMP? Because holy crap am I lost

George walked into the inn, chuckling, Wilbur close behind. He was telling him about when he and Techno were kids, and how they tormented Tommy any chance they got. 

“That must be why Tommy is so annoying,” George replied lightheartedly, “You and Techno basically tortured him.” 

A bittersweet smile emerged on Wilburs face, and he chuckled, “No, he’s just naturally obnoxious.”

Recognizing the poignant tone in his friend's voice, George stopped in front of the door that led to the staircase leading to their room. 

He faced Wilbur and grasped his wrists, giving him a comforting smile. The closest thing to family he had left was Sapnap, he couldn’t imagine leaving behind siblings and a parent. 

“You miss them.” He stated, rubbing small circles on Wilbur’s forearm and tilting his head. His voice was quiet and calm, and the taller relished the comfort that settled within him. He may not have a physical home anymore, but he felt at home with George. 

Wilbur bent closer into his smaller friend, placing his hand on the other’s upper arm, and nodded, a small frown present on his face. As much as his family got on his nerves, he really did miss them. His heart felt heavy thinking of them. 

George leaned into the touch, his gaze was soft and warm like it was just the two of them. He gave Wilbur a comforting smile then timidly wrapped his arms around him. 

“I do too,” He mumbled, resting his cheek on the other’s chest. 

Wilbur couldn’t help but smile and reciprocate the hug, resting his head on top of the others. He kneaded intricately on his back, grinning smugly when George let out a content purr. 

He had always assumed George hated physical touch. Even when he was close with Dream, Wilbur realized he had never seen them embrace. Now that he thought about it, he wasn’t sure he had ever seen the smaller man hug anyone else. The more time he spent with him, however, he knew Gogy was clingy as hell. 

He kind of liked it, though. 

“I’m grateful for you, Gogy.” Wilbur confessed, whispering into his ear, his lips brushing against his skin lightly, “I wouldn’t have been able to do this without you.”

George shivered as Wilbur’s lips grazed his ears, sucking in an involuntary breath. He twisted so his ear was against the taller’s heart, and he listened to the rhythm intently. Unlike his, it was calm, cool, and collected, just like Wilbur. It was nice. 

His eyes flitted from Wilbur to the bar, taking in the patrons. His eyebrows furrowed as he took in someone new sitting at the cracked wood, hood covering their face. In the couple of days, they had stayed at the inn, it was clear the only patrons were regulars. Rarely anyone knew showed up. 

The mysterious patron rose his head slightly as he swallowed some of his whiskey, his hood shifting just enough for George to gasp. He burrowed his face into Wilbur, attempting to hide. His heart rate spiked, they needed to get out of there. 

He quickly pulled away from the hold and opened the door behind them, waiting for Wilbur to follow him in before locking it. 

Wilbur frowned at George’s sudden reaction but followed obediently. What the hell just happened? 

“George?” He asked, following him up the stairs. His friend was pale and his eyes were wide, he looked as if he had seen a ghost. 

‘Shhh.” George hissed, waiting for his companion to open the door to their room. “Grab a weapon.” 

George nodded and ran to their room. If it was who he thought, the lock on the door wouldn’t stop him for long. 

Wilbur rose his shirt to show him a knife tucked into the waistband of his jeans, lips tilted downwards in a confused frown, “What’s going on, Gogy?” 

George mumbled his answer, his breath rushed and heavy. He was shoving all of their belongings into his bag, not that they had much. He handed Wilbur his ax, and he hooked his bow on his shoulder if only it were just some mere zombies that were after them.

Wilbur’s stomach dropped, he had never seen him act this skittish before. Something was definitely wrong.

“We need to leave.” He explained, out of breath. He handed Wilbur his jacket and turned to grab his own. “I’ll explain later, we don’t have time.” 

Wilbur nodded. He could wait for an explanation; if George was panicked, it was for a good reason. He trusted him. 

“We’ll go out the back door.” 

Wilbur opened the door and attempted to step through, gasping when he was shoved roughly back against the wall. A loaded crossbow was pointed directly against his forehead and he winced, despite the man in front of him being roughly George’s height, he still had control of him. 

He heard George cry out his name and dock his bow, pointing at the hooded man. Wilbur didn’t dare try to turn his head, but even in his peripheral vision, he could tell his friend was pissed. 

“Don’t hurt him.” George ground out, ready to release the bowstring at any second. His palms were sweating and his heart raced, but he kept his face blank. 

Don’t show any weakness, he heard Dream say. The countless hours of training with his ex-friend infiltrating his head. 

“Don’t be afraid of the bow, it’s a part of you now, embrace it.” His friend had said, standing behind George. He had placed his hands around him, practically caging him, and guided his arms into position. “Remember to follow-through.” 

The sun glared down on them, scorching his bare skin. He squinted, trying to focus on the target, but his goggles did little to help. 

“Can we take a break? I’m sweating.” He had complained, wiping the sweat on his forehead onto the shoulder of his cotton shirt. 

Dream had wheezed, and he released his hold on his arms, placing them on the smaller’s waist. “No chance.” 

George whined, and let go of the bowstring. He watched as the arrow completely missed the target and stuck in a tree yards behind, “I’m clearly not going to get it.” 

“You’re not focusing.” Dream had chastised and handed George another arrow. “You don’t want to be helpless forever, do you? I’m not always going to be around to save you.” 

“I’m not helpless.” He replied, ignoring the taller man's scoff. “And how can I focus when you’re hands on my waist?” 

Dream laughed loudly, and placed his hands on George’s shoulders, rubbing slightly. “You need to be able to focus no matter the circumstances, no matter what’s at stake.” 

George rolled his eyes but docked another arrow anyway. He raised the bow and pulled the bowstring back to his face, next to his ear. 

“When you shoot, you’re worrying. You worry too much, I know.” Dream continued, leaning towards George’s other ear. “Think of it as putting your worries in a box, shutting it, and leaving it behind. Keep your mind blank.” 

“Do you leave your feelings in boxes, Dream?” He had asked, readjusting his hold and focusing on the stretched lambskin in front of him, the dyed circle in the center mocking him. 

“When I have to.” 

He released the arrow and hit the target with a satisfying thunk. 

“George.” Wilbur gasped, breaking him out of his trance. He was watching the man out of the corner of his eye, but stood still, “Run.” 

The hooded man scoffed, twisting the taller man so his face was pressed against the wall, crossbow pressing painfully against the back of his head.

“Georgie knows better than that, don’t you?” The man warned, watching him intently. “Either of you moves a muscle and the big friendly giant here dies.” 

“HBomb,” George said, refusing to drop the bow. He stared stubbornly at the man, eyes glinting in resolve, “Still Dream’s bitch are you?” 

HBomb shrugged, pressing the tip of the arrow deeper into Wilbur’s skin, who winced, “He pays well. Now drop the bow, Georgie. I don’t want to have to hurt your friend, but I will.” 

Put your feelings aside, he thought. He looked from HBomb to Wilbur, who’s eyes were closed, face contorted in pain, then back. 

George gently let go of the bowstring, and HBomb smirked. 

Put your feeling aside, he reminded himself. He looked from HBomb to Wilbur, whose eyes were closed, face contorted in pain. 

He gently let go of the bowstring, tilting it towards the floor. 

HBomb smirked, chuckling lightly, “Good boy.”

George scowled and took a deep breath, the bounty hunter’s talking falling on deaf ears. 

“Put it in a box.” He mumbled and looked back to Wilbur, who’s eyes were now open and watching him in concern. “Leave it behind.” 

“- what are you saying, sweetheart? Speak up.” HBomb mocked. 

George quickly re-drew his bow and released it. The arrow sliced into the hooded man’s shoulder, who dropped the crossbow, crying out in pain. 

Wilbur pushed roughly against the bounty hunter, who fell back on the ground. The taller man pulled the knife out from underneath his shirt and stabbed into the opposite shoulder, grimacing at the scream HBomb let out. The patrons downstairs surely heard it. 

“We need to leave,” George said, grabbing Wilburs arm, he briefly stopped to face HBomb. He grabbed his chin and forced him to make eye contact, “Stop looking for us, go back to your wife, retire. This isn’t worth it.”

Wilbur's eyes widened and he found himself freeze temporarily, he had never heard George act so threatening before. 

“Let’s go, your highness,” Wilbur reminded him, picking up the discarded crossbow that had just been aimed against him, “People will be coming up soon.” 

George nodded, releasing his grip on the bounty hunter. He followed Wilbur out of the back entrance, and they took the back alleys that led out of town. 

‘Where to now?” Wilbur asked, concerned with George’s emotionless face. He seemed like he was operating on auto-pilot and the taller man desperately wanted him to say something. 

George shrugged, but kept walking, “We’ll see when we get there.”

\-------

“I don\t understand, why can’t I come?”

“There’s no way they’re going to trust you,” Sapnap explained, exasperated, “I don’t even trust you!”

Karl frowned and stuck his lip out, his eyes were glassy and Sapnap felt like he had kicked a puppy. 

The raven-haired man sighed and ran his hands through his hair, “Look, it’s nothing personal-” 

Karl looked at the ground dejectedly, his bottom lip quivering. He wiped at his eyes with sweater paws, making sure Sapnap saw. 

“-It’s just that none of us know you!” 

“I get it, you hate me.” The brunette whined, sighing dramatically. “Everyone does.” 

‘Oh my god.” 

“You could just be honest about it, though.” 

“Okay, Jesus, look we’ll meet halfway,” Sapnap caved, rolling his eyes when Karl’s ‘sad’ expression instantly changed into joy, “You’re the worst.” 

“You’ll learn to love it,” He replied, bouncing on the balls of his feet. It reminded Sapnap of George, who did the same thing whenever he got excited or happy. It made him smile, and it reminded him of why he was doing this. 

“You’ll stay behind on lookout, but I’ll fill you in afterward, okay?”

Karl mulled over the proposal carefully, as much as he wanted to be involved, this opened an opportunity for him to get to know Sapnap better. “Only if you answer any and all questions I have.”

The raven-haired man groaned but nodded in agreement. He would definitely regret this later. 

Karl sported a shit-eating grin and held out his hand, sticking his pinky up, which Sapnap frowned at. 

“What are you doing?” He asked, staring at the other’s hand carefully. 

“Pinky-promise me.” 

Sapnap grimaced, George would never do that. “Are you serious?” 

“Yes.” The brunette replied, keeping his hand out in wait. 

He rolled his eyes but crossed pinkies with him anyway. The smile that rewarded him settled warmly in his chest, making his neck feel warm. 

When they got back to L’Manburg, Karl stayed on top of the stairs. He stared down at everyone that passed, watching for any sign that they were followed. As much as he wanted to be down where the action was, he did enjoy feeling like a spy. 

Sapnap quickly found the group of L’Manburgians, who hadn’t gone far from earlier. Quackity and Nikki were talking to Tubbo, who still looked upset. Tommy was arguing animatedly with Technoblade, who looked bored, and Philza stood leaning against a wall, staring at the sky. 

“Sap!” He heard Tommy yell, and he involuntarily rolled his eyes. 

Tommy’s screech gathered the attention of the rest of their group. Quackity and Nikki’s heads shot towards him, and if glares could kill he would be six feet under. It occurred to him he was still very much hated by the people around him, especially after Dream and Schlatt tried to pick a fight. 

He walked closer to the group slowly, his stomach twisting. Maybe he should have brought Karl as a buffer. 

Quackity stood up, scowling. He jammed his finger harshly into Sapnap’s chest as he spoke, “What the hell are you doing here, man?”

Sapnap raised his hands in surrender, backing up a couple of steps. He really didn’t want to argue right now. He didn’t have an aversion to confrontation like George did, but it made him feel nauseous and make his heart rate soar. His short-temper was even shorter-lived, and a lot of times after he reacted purely on his roller-coaster emotions, he was stuck dealing with the aftermath. 

Philza noticed his worries and this time he stepped in, placing a comforting hand on Quackity’s shoulder, who still refused to move. 

“It’s okay, Quackity. He’s on our side.” 

“It didn’t look like it earlier.” He replied stubbornly, crossing his arms over his chest. His hair was sticking out of his beanie, and stuck to his forehead, which was creased from the persistent frown on his face.

Sapnap huffed, mirroring his action and crossing his arms, “That’s the point, dumbass.” 

Quackity scoffed, but when Nikki reached out for him he caved and went back to his previous seat. 

After Quackity calmed down, Philza turned to Sapnap, eyeing him carefully. ‘I do have to ask you though, who the hell was that earlier?” 

“I forgot about that!” Tommy interrupted, walking closer to his dad, “You two seemed awfully chummy.” 

Sapnap blushed, “That was Karl. He may have helped me lie to dream, but now we have to pretend to be together.” 

Philza’s eyebrows raised and his lips tilted upwards in a slight smile. Sapnap glared at him, there was nothing amusing about the situation. 

“I haven’t told him anything,” Sapnap promised, “I don’t know what to think of him yet.” 

“Don’t tell him anything,” Philza said, placing a hand on the shorter man’s shoulder, “I wouldn’t trust anyone else right now. Keep him at arm's length.” 

Sapnap nodded, and guilt flooded his chest. He promised the brunette he would tell him everything, he felt bad about having to go back on it. But he trusted Philza and his assessment, he couldn’t risk trusting anyone else, George depended on it. 

The older man pulled his hand away and leaned back against the wall, “So why did you come here? Did something happen?” 

“Dream hired a bounty hunter,” Sapnap explained, “His name is HBomb, apparently.” 

Technoblade’s head snapped up, his braid bouncing dramatically before landing on his shoulder, “HBomb?”

“Do you know him?” Philza asked. 

“You could say that.” Technoblade growled, “He’s known for his persistence, despite getting no pleasure from deriving pain on his targets, he’s willing to do anything for a price.” 

Tommy winced and sucked in a breath, curling into himself. “What do you mean?”

“Wait, he said something about this,” Sapnap interrupted, recalling his conversation in the castle, “He said there hasn’t been one target he hasn’t captured.”

“Well as long as he captures them, and doesn’t kill them, right?” Tubbo asked, fiddling with his hands. His eyes were wide and hopeful and Sapnap hoped he never lost his optimism. 

Sapnap grimaced, “He won’t kill them. Dream asked for them both to be returned alive.” 

“He won't kill them, Dream asked for both to be returned alive.” Sapnap grimaced, facing the ground. 

“Then why are you grimacing?” Quackity asked, eyebrows furrowed. 

‘Then what’s with the face?” Quackity asked, his eyes narrow and unrelenting. 

“He asked for George to be returned unharmed, but told him he could ‘have fun with Wilbur.’” He confessed, shifting his weight between feet. 

Tommy scowled, his hands clenched by his sides, “I’m going to kill him.” 

“Yeah cause that worked so well earlier.” Techno deadpanned. 

“We’re missing the most important part of this-” Philza interrupted, “-What is Dream going to do when they are brought back.” 

“That won’t matter, we’ll handle him first-” 

The conversation drowned out, and Sapnap looked to the ground. 

“We’re going to be called the Dream team!” A teenage version of his old friend announced, waving a wooden sword through the air. He didn’t wear a mask then, and his crooked teeth were always formed into a smile. 

“Maybe we can get the new kid to join too!” He continued, looking down the street at a smaller brunette, who was petting a stray cat. 

Sapnap’s mouth curled into a frown and he looked at the other kid, “I don’t know Dream, he’s kind of weird. Plus he talks weirdly, he called a cookie a biscuit!” 

Dream laughed, hitting his friend lightly with his sword, “Don’t be mean, Pandas! When we’re in charge one day, we want everyone to be welcome!” 

Sapnap shrugged but looked back to the kid. George was his name he was pretty sure. He was always alone, and really quiet. Maybe he did need friends. 

“Do you really think we’ll rule one day?” Sapnap had asked, watching the guards patrol the streets, maybe he could be like them one day. 

Dream hummed, “Maybe not here. But we could go somewhere new, start a new kingdom. We’ll be the most powerful, and everyone will want to live in our land.” 

Sapnap sighed and picked up a spider that was crawling next to him, he showed it to Dream who screamed and jumped back. 

“That seems like a lot of work.” Sapnap giggled, placing the arachnid on the ground. 

Dream had frowned, and stepped on the spider, ignoring his friends' hurt noises. “In our land, we’ll have no bugs. Only the best, because it’s what we deserve.” 

“I don’t mind the bugs,” Sapnap said quietly, frowning as the squashed spider guts staining the cement beneath them. 

“That’s why it’s the Dream Team, Pandas.” Dream said, “You’re too much of a wimp.” 

“Am not!” 

Dream laughed, holding his hand out for his friend. “You are, but it’s okay. I’ll always be here, strong enough for the both of us.” 

Sapnap shook the loose pieces of cement and dirt off of his pants, following the blonde towards George. Dream was right, he needed him. If it wasn’t for him, he’d still be in that awful orphanage, being beat every night. 

“No one will be able to hurt us again.” Dream said, mostly to himself. “I’ll be in control.” 

The brunette looked up as the two got closer, and the cat scurried away.

“Hey, why’d you scare her?” He had asked, frowning. A pair of atrocious goggles covered his eyes, and Sapnap reached for them, but George slapped his hands away. 

“We’re your friends now!” Dream explained excitedly, ignoring the boy's frown. “You don’t need to talk to the gross alley-cats anymore.”

“They aren’t gross,” George muttered, eyebrows furrowed. “And I don’t talk to them, I pet them.” 

“Why do you wear goggles?” Sapnap interrupted, reaching for them again. 

George slapped his hands away once again, frown intensifying. “None of your business.” 

Dream reached into his pocket, grabbing a piece of chocolate, and handed it to George, who unwrapped it and ate it quickly. “We’re your friends, I told you!”

“I don’t see things right,” George mumbled, wiping his hands on his shirt. “The goggles help.” 

Dream nodded, accepting his explanation, “I’m Dream, this is Pandas.”

George’s frown broke into a disbelieving smile, “Dream? Pandas? Why do you have such weird names?” 

“It’s better than George!” Sapnap retorted, pushing the smaller boy lightly. “That’s boring.” 

“I’m calling you Sapnap.” The brunette responded, ignoring him. “It’s like Pandas but backwards.” 

Dream wheezed, placing a hand on his stomach, “Sapnap!” 

George frowned, and turned to the raven-haired boy, “Is he dying? Why does he sound like that?”

Sapnap laughed at Dreams's offended expression, and George soon joined in. 

Years later, the Dream Team were still together, looking for somewhere to build their kingdom. They had been wandering for weeks, searching for somewhere they could all agree to build. They hadn’t expected needing to leave so soon, but Dream had pushed his luck with the guards the last time and they needed to escape once and for all. 

Dream had adjusted the porcelain mask on his face. He could see out of it fine due to its enchantments, but the weight still felt heavy on his head. 

A couple of yards in front of him Sapnap and George argued, over something dumb, probably. They argued almost constantly over almost anything since they met. They stepped out of the woods and climbed on top of a hill. 

George had adjusted his goggles, and he took in the view. Sapnap and Dream gasped behind him, and Sapnap harshly clapped a hand on his back. 

Beneath them was a lake, crystal clear and filled with fish. Around it was acres of flat ground, practically begging for someone to build on. 

“It’s perfect.” He had said, taking off his white shirt, the temperature being way too warm for it. He ripped it and used the fabric to tie his long hair back. They had been away from civilization and haircuts for so long, his black locks were constantly in his face. 

They had spent weeks building their first house and the path to it, deciding on a home in the middle of the lake. It made it a lot more difficult to construct, but the finished product of bricks and oak laying delicately on the water made it worth it. 

One day two others showed up, also looking for somewhere new. Callahan and Alyssa. Callahan didn’t talk, but Alyssa interpreted his signing and soon they learned to read it too. 

Dream liked to think of them as a group of misfits, wronged by previous kingdoms. Soon their little compound grew and grew, and they got a name, the Dream SMP. 

It was home. It was theirs. 

But nothing good ever lasts. 

“Sapnap?” A voice called, breaking him out of his reminiscence. He focused back on the group in front of him, they looked worried. It made him feel a lot less alone, Dream may have been the one to rescue him, but he had other people he cared about too. Whether he admitted it or not. 

“Sap, are you okay?” Tubbo asked, grasping his arm lightly. The shorter boy looked up at him with concern, then wrapped his arms around him. 

He nodded, and forced a smile on his face, rubbing the younger boy back, “I’m okay.” 

“I know this is hard, but you’re doing the right thing.” Philza comforted him, he understood how hard it was going against family. It was something he wouldn’t wish on anyone. 

“I know.” He answered, “what’s the plan?” 

“I’m going to search for them,” Technoblade answered, “To find them before HBomb does.” 

Sapnap shook his head, “He already has leads, he’s sure to be way ahead.” 

“I know people.” The pig-hybrid replied, vaguely. “But I better leave now.” 

Philza nodded and told him to be safe, hugging him. Tommy followed suit. 

“How does that help us with Dream and Schlatt?” He asked while he wanted George back, if he was gone he was safe. As soon as he was brought back to the Dream SMP Dream would surely hold him captive till he was ‘his’ again. 

“We’re going to pretend to hold George hostage.” Tommy supplied, pulling Tubbo towards him protectively. “He’s Dream’s weakness.” 

Sapnap frowned, everyone knew Dream had a soft spot for the color-blind man, but he couldn’t help but feel envious. He was Dream’s best friend, he wished he cared about him as much. 

“When Dream meets us at the location of our choosing, we’ll ambush him. We’ll get potions, armor, weapons. He can’t take all of us.” 

“This is all assuming that Technoblade gets to them first.” 

Philza sighed, but nodded, “If they get captured first, we’ll storm the castle. Hostile takeover.” 

Sapnap took in a deep breath, “We’re not going to kill Dream, right? Just lock him away?” 

The older man looked to the ground, “We’ll try our best, but you know he’s not going to back down easy.” 

“I know.” 

\------

Karl sighed, leaning against the wall of the tunnel. How long was this meeting going to take? He was bored. And hungry. And lonely. But most importantly bored. 

He had been standing there for what seemed like an eternity, watching people come to and from. It would be worth it, he reminded himself. Sapnap promised he would explain everything. 

He zoned out, thinking about Sapnap. He seemed like he was a really good cuddler, Karl desperately wanted to test it out. 

He bounced up and down on his toes, trying to find something to focus on. He looked to his house, which was mere feet from where he was standing. Sapnap would survive for five seconds if he ran to grab an apple. 

After another long minute, he caved and ran to his house, not bothering to shut the door behind him, he wouldn’t be long. 

He climbed the ladder downstairs and picked up the shiny fruit, taking a bite and climbing back up. But he froze in his tracks, the door was shut. 

His heart rate spiked and he set down the apple, keeping his eye on the door. Maybe someone walking by decided to shut it, he tried to reason. But his gut told him otherwise. 

Someone suddenly pulled him back, one hand keeping his wrists pinned and the other over his mouth. 

“Karl, isn’t it?” The voice asked from behind him, and he involuntarily shivered. 

He nodded, pretending not to fight before biting the hand in front of him. It didn’t gain him any leverage, but it did make him smirk when the man holding him gasped in pain. 

“You bitch!” The voice hissed, before slapping him. 

His cheek stung and tears pricked his eyes, he tried to scream but the intruder slapped his hand over his mouth once again. 

“Bite me again, and I ram you with my horns as hard as I can.” He warned, rubbing the top of his horn against his head as a warning. 

Karl shut his eyes and tried to focus on his breathing, he would be no help to anyone if he hyperventilated and passed out. He prayed Sapnap fished and came back before the ram-hybrid behind him could do anything.

“I think we need to have a little talk…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> El Rapids supremacy


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Karl and Schlatt have a little chat. 
> 
> George realizes something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My updating schedule is so irregular lmao
> 
> uhh this chapter gets kinda graphic lol - here's your warning

Warm tears cascaded down Karl’s flushed cheeks, onto his chapped lips. He involuntarily licked his lips, the salty moisture coated his tongue. 

Schlatt was leaning behind him, tying either wrist to the armrests of the uncomfortable wooden chair beneath him. 

The ram-hybrid didn’t bother moving his captive, deciding his secluded basement was discreet enough for whatever he had planned. 

“Just have to wait long enough for Sapnap to rescue me,” Karl whispered, harshly shutting his eyes. His blunt nails clawed at the wood beneath his hands, attempting to gain any amount of leverage with the bindings. He could do this. 

Schlatt walked back in front of his captive, admiring his handiwork. A Cheshire grin mocked Karl, and he desperately wanted to slap it off of him. 

“Now Karl-” The horned man said, pulling a knife out of his suit jacket. His clothing was still perfectly clean and maintained, despite taking a hostage, “-I think we both know why I’m here.” 

Karl winced instinctually and re-shut his eyes, twisting away from his captor as much as he could, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

Schlatt laughed, and the deep vibrations echoed throughout the room. He grabbed Karl’s jaw in a bruising hold and forced him to look at him. With his other hand, he delicately trailed the blade against his clavicle, the cold of the metal stung his skin. 

“Are you sure about that?” 

Karl recoiled, taking a second to will himself to look into his captor's eyes. The ram-hybrids eyes shone in mirth. He was enjoying this. His gaze was imposing, intimidating, and down-right scary, the brunette swallowed roughly and took a deep breath. 

“You’re a nimrod.” He grumbled in spite, before spitting on his captor, the saliva dripped obscenely down the horned man's cheek. 

Schlatt’s eyes widened in shock, before narrowing. He wiped the secretion onto the cuff of his suit jacket and glared. Any mirth that was once present in his irises were replaced by fury. 

Karl braced for the assault he knew was coming, but no amount of preparation could minimize the pain of the loud slap that abused his cheek. His eyes teared and his face stung, the pain took the breath from his lungs. 

“You fucking bitch.” Schlatt yelled, grabbing the knife and jamming the tip harshly into his sternum, “You’re not in charge here! I am!” 

A sob racked through his chest, breaking the last amount of control he had. The only thing he had wanted was to help Sapnap. He didn’t ask for this. If he had stayed with Chris he would have been safe, probably bored as all hell, but safe.

“Now you’re going to tell me exactly what I want to know, or your boyfriend finds you bleeding like a stuck pig.” Schlatt ground out, holding the knife against his arm and pulling down roughly, slicing a couple of inches through his flesh. 

He swallowed down his cries, refusing to give his captor the satisfaction. His jaw clenched and he ground his teeth in an attempt to stay quiet. The pain was overwhelming, and it set his nerves ablaze, but he could handle it. He could do this. 

Schlatt moved on from his arm to his thigh, jamming it into the muscle and immediately pulling out. Sticky red blood gushed from the wound, soaking his jeans and dripping onto the carpet beneath him. 

He couldn’t help but let out a pitiful scream, it was just far too painful. Sweat coated his forehead and the room spun around him, it took everything to stay conscious. 

“This can end, Karl. The only thing you need to do is tell me the truth.” Schlatt told him, grabbing his hair and pulling him up straight and making eye contact, “You’re a traitor, aren’t you?” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He mumbled. His head was foggy, but the pain was numbing. He just needed to hold out. 

His captor laughed, then sliced through his collarbone, admiring the crimson liquid that fell down his porcelain skin. “I bet Sapnap’s involved too, isn’t he?” 

The brunette kept his mouth shut and focused on the ladder in front of him. Any second now Sapnap would climb down and put a stop to this. 

“He doesn’t actually care about you, you know that right?” The horned man continued, dancing his fingertips against the wound on his collarbone, then suddenly pushed in his thumb, stretching the cut. 

Karl’s body spasmed in pain, and a shrill scream escaped from his lips. His captor chuckled darkly, and he cursed himself for giving him what he wanted. 

“-I mean, where is he?” 

Schlatt finally plucked his blood-stained thumb from his cut and brushed it against his tongue sensually. He made sure to make eye contact with his hostage as he swallowed, a vulgar grin covering his face. His teeth were lightly colored from his blood, and it made Karl want to puke.

He pushed himself as far back as he could, wrists digging painfully against his restraints. He was gasping desperately, trying to adequately fill his lungs with oxygen. His hair was stuck to his forehead, and his lips were torn from biting them. 

“I’ve had my suspicions about him, so I followed you. When you stood on lookout like a good little soldier, I knew.” Schlatt continued, rubbing his hostage’s cheek delicately. It would have been comforting in any other circumstance, but right now the touch burned his skin. “You won’t be telling me anything I don’t already know.” 

Karl’s eyes were raw, and his head pounded. Sobs were once again running their course through him, aggravating his wounds. He just wanted it to end. 

“Please stop-” Karl begged, barely audible between his cries, “Just stop.” 

Schlatt lovingly caressed his head, then lightly kissed the tops of his nose. Karl almost preferred the stabbing to whatever the hell was going on. His skin felt hot and clammy, it felt like it was about to melt off. His eyelids were heavy and his body ached. 

The ram-hybrid smirked, then pressed light kisses to his bruised jaw, then up to his ear, where he whispered, “You know how to make this stop, princess. Tell me what I want to know.” 

The brunette shivered and his heart pounded in his chest. He was sore, he was tired, all he wanted was to succumb to his heavy eyes and fall asleep. The wooden chair beneath him dug into the backs of his thighs, and his ankles cramped from their irregular position. 

Maybe Schlatt was right. Sapnap had been gone a while, what were the chances he decided to just leave without coming to him? It’s not like he owed him any loyalty. 

His eyelids drooped, and his entire body swayed. He felt as if he were in a boat, paddling through the gentle waves. He closed his eyes, thinking about the last time he saw the ocean. Maybe one day he could go back...

He felt another finger reenter the wound on his clavicle, and his eyes jotted back open. The pain shot through his neck and down his arm, Schlatt stood in front of him, scowling. 

“No sleep, yet, princess.” He told him, then placed the knife against his stomach, the tip of the blade drawing blood. 

“No sleep yet, princess.”He told him, then placed the knife against his stomach. The tip of the blade cut through his shirt and drew blood. 

Karl tensed, preparing for another cut. Another wound would surely kill him, if he didn’t die already. He looked into his captor's eyes, if he was going to take his life, he was going to look him in the eyes while he did it. 

“You’re loyal, I’ll give you that much,” Schlatt smirked, pulling the blade away from him. Karl let out a large sigh of relief and tipped his head down, gasping. 

“But I want information.” 

Schlatt quickly moved the blade and shoved it into his abdomen. The pain was so great Karl shook, not even a scream escaped. He choked on his sobs and pulled desperately against his binds. 

The pain was so overwhelming he was nauseous. He fell limp against the back of his chair and his vision blurred. He couldn’t do this. 

The horned man gripped the handle of the blade, slowly twisting. Karl screamed, he didn’t think the pain could get any worse. 

“I’m getting impatient, Karl.” 

His head was thick with fog, the only thing that kept him present was the burning in his stomach, which made him forget about the other wounds. He forced himself to open his eyes, which burned from how much he was crying. It took him a couple of seconds to focus on his captor, who was still holding the blade, ready to twist. 

He couldn’t take any more. Sapnap would understand. He was just so tired, if he caved, he could rest his eyes, just for a moment. 

“He’s working with Philza,” Karl whispered in defeat, eyes half-closed. “He doesn’t trust Dream anymore. He blames him for George leaving.” 

His captor laughed, leaving the knife in his abdomen then rubbing his shoulders. If his grin was anything to go by, he was thrilled at having his suspicions validated. 

The horned man left him tied to the chair, and climbed the ladder back upstairs. But Karl didn’t mind. He was too tired and stopped fighting the fog. Soon darkness started creeping into his vision, and he let go, going limp in the seat. 

\---------

A stick snapped under George’s weight, but he paid it no mind. Wilbur stood towering next to him, watching him with concern, George knew, but he couldn’t be bothered to think about it. 

A stick snapped under George’s weight, but he paid it no mind. His thoughts were far elsewhere. 

Wilbur towered next to him, watching him with concern but neither spoke, they just kept walking back through the woods. 

It felt a lot different this time. When they were first escaping L’Manburg, they were hopeful, optimistic even. But it seemed like everything was going wrong. They couldn’t run from Dream forever. He had infinite resources and could hire anyone at any time. 

How could they compete? 

If they were captured, they’d surely be killed. Dream was a petty man, there was no doubt in Wilbur’s mind that he would make his death slow and painful for accompanying George, even though it was him who decided to go through with running away. 

The woods weren’t near as pretty as the first one they passed through. Since they were further north, it was a lot colder. Instead of birch trees and flower fields, there were snowberries and spruce. 

If he listened closely he could hear a pack of wolves hunting a few kilometers to their left. It unsettled him. 

When he looked to his shorter companion to see if he could hear it too, he noticed the far-away expression in his eyes. His body seemed to move on auto-pilot dodging rocks and branches, and he wished he could tell what he was thinking. 

“How can we trust him?” George had asked Dream, months and months ago, “He’s a bounty hunter, not a knight.”

Dream had rolled his eyes, and roughly grabbed the smaller’s shoulders, looking down at him intensely, “Do you trust me, George?” 

George had nodded, the light of the torches reflected on his goggles, “Completely.” 

His counterpart had smirked, and he raised his hand to grace his cheek, thumb padding the skin beneath his eyewear, “Then trust me when I say he’s the man for the job.”

The masked man had led him to a back-alley, where they met up with the bounty hunter. They discussed payment and details of the job, but George wasn’t paying attention. On a trash bin, a couple of yards away laid a cat, grooming itself and paying them no mind. Its fur was matted and his ears were clipped, but he still found the creature endearing. He wanted a cat, always had. 

But Dream wouldn’t let him. He had said that pets were pointless at best, and a weakness at worst. 

Once he had tried to keep a chicken, who had accidentally found his first underground base. It lasted about a day before Dream came down and told him to kill it, saying it was a waste of space. He obeyed. 

The first time he had met HBomb, he wasn’t intimidated. He was about his height, and he wasn’t physically imposing by any means. He seemed like he would be better suited for just about anything else. 

Dream told him he had a family, a wife. He had laughed about it and told him about how dumb he was. George didn’t understand why loving someone was funny, but then he understood. 

Loving someone was a weakness. Just like pets. 

He understood that when Dream had stood clutching a bow, facing Tommy, who also held a weapon. His stomach had twisted, and he knew if Dream ever got hurt, he wouldn’t be able to live with himself. 

Now, look at him. He was on the run from the man with his greatest enemy. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” He heard Wilbur ask. His friend’s face was still twisted in concern, he was too compassionate for his own good, and it made George’s heart flutter. Despite everything he still wanted to make sure he was okay. 

He chastised himself for feeling this way. He couldn’t risk falling for his companion, if Dream taught him anything, it was that. He was right, love was a weakness. 

Back at the inn, he should have fired a shot immediately. That was the smart, strategic move. But when he saw the weapon aimed at Wilbur, he froze. The thought of him dying terrified him, more than Dream, more than the man in the alley, more than anything. He froze and it almost cost them their life. 

“There’s nothing to talk about.” 

Wilbur stopped abruptly and grabbed George’s wrist, pulling him to a stop as well. George looked to the side, but the taller man gently took his jaw in his hand and tilted it back. 

“I thought we were past this, George.” He said, the timbre of his voice sending shivers down the shorter’s spine. He looked mildly disappointed and it pricked George’s heart. He didn’t deserve Wilbur. 

George clenched and unclenched his jaw repeatedly, looking for the right words. Eventually, he just gave up, “Wilbur, I’m fine.” 

His friend scoffed, and moved his hands from his wrists to his shoulders, “We both know that’s not true. What the hell was that back there?” 

“Me, saving you, you’re welcome by the way.” He responded sass oozing out of him and irritation coating his voice. He shook Wilbur's grasp off and crossed his arms over his chest. 

“Why do you always do this?” Wilbur asked, he wanted to help his friend and he was making it way more difficult than it had to be. When he saw George’s semi-hurt expression, he quickly spoke again, “I just want to help, Gogy.” 

George huffed, and he stared stubbornly at his friend's eyes, “Why do you care?” 

“Because I care about you, George!” Wilbur replied, exasperated, “I see you hurting, and it breaks my heart!” 

“Okay fine!” George snapped, waving his hands as he spoke, “Then you tell me about the button!” 

“-George, please don’t.”

“Or about your brothers!” 

“-Gogy, stop.” 

“Or about your dad!” 

“I said stop!” 

The two stood at a standstill, not daring to speak. George was breathing heavily and tears streamed down his face. He knew he had gone too far, but he tried to convince himself it was for the best. He caused the pain in Wilbur’s eyes, and it made him want to vomit. 

Still, Wilbur reached out for him. 

“I need some air.” The shorter said, wiping his eyes and avoiding his grasp. He walked into the trees and ignored the other’s call of his name. As much as he wanted to cave and turn around, hug him and apologize, Dream’s words replayed. 

Love is a weakness, it only gets people hurt. 

He eventually stopped, collapsing onto a tree. He let the tears flow freely, and fell to his knees. He pulled at the grass beneath him, before tossing the clippings to the side. 

As a couple of minutes passed, he felt even worse. What was wrong with him? Why couldn’t he just talk about how he felt? Why did he need to hurt the only person he had left? 

The dark trees seemed to spin around him, and his stomach twisted. Finally, the realization set in as, why he was so scared of losing his taller friend. Why he was his weakness. 

He fell on his back on the soft grass, and he crossed his arms over his face and groaned. He didn’t know how he didn’t put it together sooner. He loved Wilbur. 

A stick snapped from the distance and he sat up, scanning the trees, “Wilbur?” 

“Not quite.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LMAO 
> 
> anyways I had fun writing this chapter hehe


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Technoblade finds George in the woods.
> 
> Sapnap visits Karl.
> 
> Dream comes to a conclusion on how to protect his friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> why is it so fucking difficult for me to write technoblade lmao

George slowly stood up, and turned to face the deep voice, “Technoblade?”

“Why were you on the ground?” 

The shorter rubbed at the nape of his neck and shifted his weight between feet. He had spoken to the hybrid very few times, and every time he felt intimidated, this time is no exception. The pinkette was not only physically imposing but mentally as well; no one could ever tell what he was thinking. 

His mind was racing, he had just realized his feelings for his friend minutes before, and now he was facing his murderous brother. 

He instinctively took a step back, and Technoblade’s lip ticked up. The taller man cleared his throat and took a step forward. 

George huffed, standing up straight and puffing out his chest. Why was everyone in this family so tall? 

“Are you going to answer me?” He asked, robotic. The monotonous tone made George squirm. 

He shook his head, ignoring the heat warming his cheeks, “How did you find us?”

Technoblade chucked and crossed his arms, mirroring the smaller man, “You’re sloppy. I thought Wilbur knew better, but clearly not.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I nether traveled to the town, as soon as I got there I saw a man with a fresh cut on his face and a distraught inn-keeper talking to the guards. Put two and two together. You suck at being fugitives.” 

“Oh.” George replied meekly, chewing on his lip, “We’re not fugitives though.”

The taller man laughed sharply, causing George to recoil slightly, “I saw the blood in the inn, George. There are flyers plastered all over the town, you’re fugitives. HBomb and Dream are thrilled, no doubt.” 

“You know about HBomb?”

“Of course I do, I’m not dumb.” Techno deadpanned, “Sapnap told us about his right after he was hired.” 

“I’m not dumb,’ Techno deadpanned, “Sapnap told us about him right after Dream hired him.”

George perked up at the mention of his friend, his eyes wide and hopeful, “How is Sap? Is he okay?” 

“What do you think?” The taller man scoffed, “One of his friends ran away without saying goodbye, and the other is a fucking psychopath, and that’s coming from me. I may want to destroy the government, but I would never hurt my family to do such.” 

The brunette recoiled, and guilt filled the back of his mind. He was so focused on Dream he didn’t even think about how Sapnap would be left alone. He felt like shit. 

“That’s what you and Wilbur don’t understand,” He continued, irritation radiating through him, “This isn’t just your battle, there are people who you left behind willing to fight, too.”

“You don’t understand-” he tried to defend himself, his eyes tearing up and hands clenched at his sides.

“I don’t understand?!” Technoblade growled, “I watched my dad stab my brother! Tommy saw it too, he’s just 16. We didn’t run! We were willing to stay and fight a corrupt leader!”

George stopped arguing, Technoblade was right. He didn’t regret running, especially with Wilbur; but they did leave people behind, who were still in danger from Dream. 

They both stood still for a moment, breathing heavily. The pink-haired man was glaring at George, who kept his gaze on the ground in front of him.

“Why are you here?” He asked finally, looking carefully back to the taller man. 

“For Wilbur.” Technoblade answered without hesitation, “But for our plan, we need you too.”

George frowned, “Plan?”

He opened his mouth to answer but snapped it shut when a loud yell broke through the foliage, prompting flocks of birds to emerge from the trees. 

Both of them took off in the direction of the cry, the sound most definitely coming from Wilbur. George’s heart raced, he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he got hurt. 

He had never been sentimental, or emotional. He had never understood people who got upset whenever they weren’t with their friends or family. He never had a family to miss, and even though Dream and Sapnap were his ‘family’ at one point, he still almost always wanted to be alone. 

But right now, running through the woods, the only person he wanted to see was Wilbur. He didn’t want to imagine a world without him in it and by his side. 

“Wilbur?!” George yelled, breaking through the tree line to the path on which they were just stood. Technoblade was behind him, despite his longer legs. 

The dirt path was completely empty, like Wilbur was never even there. 

“Wilbur?!” He called again, a sob rising in his throat, “Wilbur where are you?!” 

“George-” Technoblade said, grabbing his shoulder roughly and turning him around. 

The brunette shook his head, tears streaming down his face, “-No, Techno, he was just here! I left him for two seconds! Where is he?!” 

“George-” 

“You need to find him! You found us once, do it again!” He cried, pushing roughly at Techno’s chest, “We need to find him!” 

Technoblade stood in shock, letting the ex-king jab at his armor. He had never seen George this worried or upset before, especially for Wilbur. What the hell happened while they were gone? 

Technoblade stood in shock, letting the ex-king jab at his sternum. The two had been together for like a week, why was George so attached?

“George, breathe.” He reminded, grasping his shoulder, “HBomb, must have caught up. We can’t change that now. He’s not going to kill him, our best plan right now is getting back to L’Manburg.” 

\--------

Sapnap slowly climbed the wooden stairs of the path, exhausted from the events of the day. He had one more stop, then he could go home and sleep. 

He dreaded talking to Karl, as much as he hated to admit it, he was growing on him, he didn’t want to have to lie. He was a terrible liar and already felt guilty about the prospect of it. He trusted Philza, though. The older man was one of the last people he actually, whole-heartedly trusted. He knew he had to do it. 

The brunette was always filled with so much energy; constant, unwavering excitement, and optimism at all times. Sapnap was not in the mood, it was tiring just thinking about it. 

He stood in front of the multi-story house, debating on whether or not he should knock. 

The other man hadn’t been where he was supposed to be standing watch, anyway. Maybe he got tired and changed his mind, or decided this wasn’t for him. 

Maybe he could come back later after he had a nap. 

He finally decided to get it over with and knocked on the door, which creaked open ominously. Sapnap’s eyebrows furrowed and he pursed his lips. Something was off about this. 

He stepped inside the dim house, carefully shutting the door behind him. His heartbeat quickened, and his stomach sank, he had never been inside the house before but the overwhelming feeling of something being wrong suffocated him. 

His instincts told him to run, to turn around and protect himself from any impending doom, but he couldn’t. 

He tiptoed to the ladder on the far side of the room and climbed down, dropping down the last couple of rings and landing with a delicate thud. 

“Karl?” He called out, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness of the room. 

A few feet from him sat a chair, a figure facing away from him and slumped on the wood. The decrepit apparition made the ravenette feel as if he was in a horror film, and he took a step forward. 

His shoes squelched on the carpet, and the scent of iron and copper hit his nostrils. He knew the smell all too well. 

He rushed towards the man in the chair, dropping to his knees in front of him. Karl sat slumped in the chair, eyes closed, mouth agape, and absolutely soaked in blood. There were cuts all over his body and the handle of a knife stuck out from his stomach. 

“Oh my god, Karl,” Sapnap cried, bringing careful fingertips to his neck. There was a pulse, faint but there, he needed help immediately. 

Sapnap took off his shirt and ripped it into strips, tying them around his thigh and arm in a makeshift tourniquet. It would have to do for now. 

Once the ‘bandages’ were secured he grabbed his knife and carefully sliced through the ropes binding his wrists and ankles. Hot tears threatened to fall, and he hiccuped. Karl didn’t deserve this, he was just trying to help. 

Sapnap hit himself on his thigh in anger, he should have come back sooner. He should have protected him. 

His skin burned, and the room seemed to get brighter? His lungs seemed to constrict and he roughly grasped the wooden armrests of the chair in front of him. His heart was beating so fast he thought it was going to explode. 

What the fuck was happening to him?

The smell of smoke broke him from his stupor. The wood beneath his hands was scorching and he pulled them back in shock. What the hell? 

He didn’t have time for this, he chastised. 

He took a few deep, cool breaths and stood up. He picked up his injured friend and laid him gently over his shoulder, making sure to not jostle the knife that was still inside of him. 

He grimaced at the sensation of blood seeping through his clothes, sticking to his skin. Whoever did this was going to pay, he pledged. 

He ran straight back to L’Manburg, paying no attention to the concerned stares of passers-by. They had learned to mind their business a long, long time ago. 

Nikki was the first person to see the situation, and she immediately called for Philza and guided him into her house, eyes wide. She was talking to him, but he couldn’t understand what she was saying. He felt like he was drowning. 

“Lay him on the bed.” She said, tying her hair back and grabbing a small chest that Sapnap assumed was medical supplies. He obeyed, snapping out of his fugue, and laid his ‘boyfriend’ onto the soft wool blanket. 

Philza stepped in right then, offering him a concerned look, “What the hell happened?!” 

The younger man shrugged, feigning nonchalance, although his teary stare at the unconscious man betrayed him. 

Nikki immediately got to work, cutting the stained shirt off his body. Karl’s skin was pale, the bright red of the stab wounds contrasting intensely against the porcelain complexion. 

He felt sick, but couldn’t tear his eyes away. Philza noticed, and the older man pulled at his wrist, gathering his attention. 

“Let’s go find her some help, yeah? There’s nothing we can do, we’ll just get in the way.” Philza offered, rubbing his wrist. 

Sapnap nodded but didn’t move. He felt as if he took his eyes off of the brunette he would fade away, and the brief image of that made his lungs constrict. 

Nikki spared him a concerned glance while she unraveled bandages, “Phil’s right, Sap. Go find me Ranboo.”

He took in a shaky breath and moved out of the house, Philza’s hand still offering him support, “He’ll be okay, Sap.” 

Quackity, Tommy, and Tubbo were standing awkwardly in front of the house, all giving him concerned glances. It was obvious they were trying to figure out what was going on. 

Tubbo stepped forward, but in a turn of events, Tommy launched himself, hugging him tightly before Tubbo could. Sapnap’s resolve faltered and began to shake in the teenager's arms. His tears began to fall and they felt like lava down his cheeks. 

Philza patted his back, “We’ll go find Ranboo, you stay here.” 

“I know where he is,” Quackity said, clearing his throat, “I’ll take you to him.” 

Sapnap stayed in Tommy’s arms, trembling, and soon Tubbo joined the hug. 

“Do you know who did it?” Tommy asked. He sounded mad, and it shocked Sapnap. He and Tommy were never close, they always argued, but he was still mad on his behalf. At least they knew Karl wasn’t a spy, he thought bitterly. 

Sapnap shook his head, not trusting his voice. 

Tubbo scoffed, “It was Dream, let’s be honest. That or someone he hired.” 

“We’re going to kill him, Sap.” Tommy said, “he’s hurt us all far too much.”

“Karl didn’t do anything,” The ravenette whispered, releasing from the hug slightly, “He didn’t know ANYTHING.” 

Tubbo rubbed his back, “I know, Sap. I know.” 

Ranboo, Philza, and Quackity soon returned, the enderman-hybrid went straight into the house. The other two guided Sapnap to benches across the house. They sat on one side, while the two teenagers sat on the other. Sapnap kept his gaze focused on the door of the house, waiting for the second Nikki or her brother came out.

Tubbo was right, this was Dream. He was far too dangerous, he needed to die. 

And he had to be the one to do it. 

\----------

“You did WHAT?” Dream hissed, shoving his counterpart into the stone wall. “Sapnap is going to be pissed!” 

Schlatt laughed, pushing Dream’s arm off of him, “Don’t you want to know what I found out?”

Dream was pissed, absolutely he was. Schlatt had no right to undermine him or his authority, but he couldn’t fight the curiosity that the ram-hybrid was sparking. 

“What did you find out?”

“That’s more like it,” Schlatt smirked, leaning against the wall and laughing lightly, “Your little boyfriend isn’t the only traitor in the Dream Team.” 

Dream scowled, crossing his arms over his chest, “What are you talking about?” 

“Sapnap’s little boyfriend didn’t know a whole lot, but he sure did squeal when I drove the knife through his gut. He told me Sap’s working with Philza and his people, I have no doubt they’re trying to undermine everything we’ve accomplished.”

The masked man growled, kicking at the stone. Why couldn’t everything go to plan? Just once? Why did they have to be so goddamn stubborn? 

He thought back to just a couple of years ago, which now felt like a lifetime. 

“Georgie! Sap!” He had called, a fond smile hidden behind his mask. He had gotten used to the weight of it now, and it was a comfort to him. He felt naked without it, vulnerable. He dreaded ever taking it off. 

They were spelunking through a cave, looking for iron and other resources. Callahan and Alyssa were working on starting a farm, and they even had their own house now. Everything was coming together, just like he had always dreamed. 

“Dream!” George screeched, running through the dimly lit cave and hiding behind him, giggles erupting through his precious smile, “Protect me! Sapnap is going feral!” 

Sapnap came running right behind him, laughing maniacally and holding a torch, the light reflecting in his dark irises. 

“He was trying to burn me!” George whined, burrowing his face into Dream’s back. The blonde felt pride at how his friend came to him for protection. 

“Aww, Georgie, I just wanted a hug!” Sapnap chuckled, leaping suddenly behind Dream and laughing when George jumped and moved positions so that he was holding onto Dream’s muscular arm. 

“Guy’s stop,” Dream chuckled, putting the arm that his friend was holding onto around his shoulders and pulling him closer, in a hug, “We need to get supplies, or Callahan will be mad.” 

“Oh no, not Callahan!” Sapnap mocked, putting a hand to his forehead dramatically, “whatever will we do?” 

Dream shook his head, and whistled, “I don’t know man, he can get pretty scary.” 

“We can finish if Sapnap apologizes,” George said stubbornly, pulling away from Dream and adjusting his goggles, a pout evident on his lips. 

The man in question scoffed, “Apologize for what? Wanting a hug from one of my best friends? Never.” 

“Yeah, George, just hug him!” Dream added on, egging on Sapnap. He knew both of them were too stubborn to cave, but he had to have his fun too. 

George’s nose curled in mock disgust, and he shivered dramatically, “Never. He smells.”

“I do not!” He yelled, running towards the smaller man with his arms open, dropping the torch, “Hug me, Georgie!” 

The shortest man ran back into the cave, his laughs and squeaks echoing through the walls of the cave, Sapnap’s following shortly after. 

Dream shook his head and picked up the torch, a playful smile on his face. He was so lucky to have found them, they were his family. They would be together forever. 

“-Dream?” 

The masked man shook away his reminiscence, Schlatt reminding him of his problems. He scowled and rolled his eyes. 

“What?” he spat. He was on his last nerve, and any second he was going to snap. 

Schlatt raised his eyebrows, “I asked what you wanted to do with him?”

“I think we can get George back. He’s a follower, so if he’s separated and kept safe he’ll come back. Besides, he loves me, he may be upset right now and be lashing out, but he’ll get over it.” Dream brainstormed, “Sapnap on the other hand is petty, he has quite the temper and can hold a grudge. He doesn’t know the mistake he’s making, I’ll have to protect him, differently.”

“What are you saying?”

Dream shrugged, “The only way to protect him now is to kill him. It’s the humane thing to do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol dream's superiority complex goes brrr


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George asks Technoblade about something he's been thinking a lot about. 
> 
> Sapnap and Dream have a face to face.
> 
> Wilbur talks to HBomb for the first time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got a minecraft tumblr! I'm also writing on there if you want to check it out
> 
> @slushiesforcar 
> 
> I edited this chapter on no sleep, so don't judge too hard hehe

The crunching of leaves and George’s quiet breaths were the only sounds to be heard in the thick woods. Neither dared to speak, and the silence was almost suffocating. 

They walked silently, they ate silently, and they slept quietly. 

George had never missed anyone as much as he missed Wilbur right then. He missed the way his eyes would twinkle when they teased each other. He missed how caring he was, and how his arms fit perfectly around him. He missed the way he tilted his head back, elongating his neck when he laughed. 

The thought of HBomb having him made bile rise in his throat. 

Technoblade told him HBomb wasn’t going to kill him, but he knew Dream wouldn’t hesitate. They needed to get to L’Manburg first, or Wilbur was as good as dead. 

He knew a little about their plan, which was half-assed in George’s opinion. Dream would sniff it out a mile away, and everyone who was going to ‘ambush’ the masked man would just get hurt. 

They tried escaping his grip, yet it remained persistent. No matter how far they went, or how much they ran, they would never be free. George could see that now. 

Love is a weakness, love makes you blind. He loved Wilbur, he never wanted to see him hurt. His love for the taller man put him at risk. It was leverage against him, it debilitated him. 

He craved being free from Dream, for good, but he wanted that for Wilbur more. He deserved it more. He had a family depending on his return. Despite everything they had been through, he deserved the world. And George was prepared to die to give it to him. 

He raised his head, pursing his lips and scanning the pink-haired man in front of him. He was Dream’s biggest foe. The differences between the two were astounding. 

Technoblade was always quiet, watching, ready. He was not only physically imposing, but his study of ancient mythologies and civilizations made him incredibly intelligent, too. Dream was smart but in a different way. He studied chance and statistics. How likely will the opponent move right, instead of left? He was loud and used his words to get under his enemy's skin. 

But the biggest difference was what puzzled George the most. 

“Techno?” He asked quietly, stopping in his tracks. 

The hybrid stopped too, facing his shorter counterpart and quirking his eyebrow to signal him to continue. 

“You’re the only person who’s ever threatened Dream, you’re one of the best warriors around.” 

“And?” 

George took a deep breath, and took a second to find his words, chewing on his lip “How can you be okay with this?” 

“Whaddya mean?” Techno asked, tilting his head. He had a small frown on his face, probably displeased with taking a break, but George didn’t care. He needed to know. 

“Having a family, having people you love. It’s a weakness, isn’t it? There’s always someone you’re thinking about that you want to protect. How can you be okay with that? Dream always gets rid of any weaknesses.” 

Technoblade stayed quiet for a moment, contemplating what George said. He was almost worried he crossed a line, but he knew he would regret not asking. 

Eventually, he replied, “Love isn’t a weakness, George. It makes you stronger, it makes you fight harder because there are people who you care about that depend on it. They depend on you coming home. You do anything to keep them safe.” 

George nodded, and they continued walking. Technoblade was right, he did have something to fight for. He wouldn’t rest till Wilbur was free. 

“Besides,” Technoblade continued, “He doesn’t get rid of ALL of his weaknesses.”

George frowned, but his companion kept walking, making it clear the conversation was over. What did he mean by that? 

It didn’t matter, he told himself. The only thing that mattered now was talking to Dream, alone. He had his own plan. 

The next second he was back in his memories, nostalgia plaguing his heart. 

“Dream what is wrong with you?!” He had cried and fallen to his knees. His shattered goggles laid in his hands and the warm colored glass littered the grass beneath him. 

Dream was standing in front of him, the emotionless mask staring at him with no remorse, “You were relying too much on them, George. This is for your own good.”

George let out a pitiful sob, hands clutching his chest pitifully. The once vibrant and lively colors he was able to see faded into a dull array of yellows and blues. The sunset he used to love to watch now looked bland, and it crushed his spirit. 

“You have the mask! Why can’t I have my goggles?!” He asked, hitting the thigh of the man in front of him. 

Dream kneeled in front of him, and placed a calloused hand on his jaw, forcing eye contact. “I’m doing what’s best for you George, you can’t see that, but I can. Do you trust me?” 

Despite his anger, he nodded, leaning into his touch slightly. It still brought him comfort. 

“Then trust me when I say that you don’t need those to be happy, you have everything you need here, with me. They were a crutch, they were a disability. You’re better off without them.” 

The brunette shook his head, tears falling down his rosy cheeks. He let go of the broken mess of glass and metal, letting it fall in front of him. 

“Good boy.” Dream had praised, wrapping his arms around the smaller man. “You know I would never do anything to hurt you.” 

George blinked away the memory, wiping a stray tear that had fallen. He looked forwards, putting his focus solely on the path in front of them. 

He missed Wilbur. 

\-------

Sapnap roughly threw open the doors of the castle, the sound echoing through the halls. 

“Dream!” He yelled, heading straight for the throne room. He had a feeling Dream would be there, he was egotistical enough. His steps were loud and echoed throughout the castle, but he didn’t care. He wasn’t hiding. 

The masked man was sitting on the imposing throne, displaying a new, dark green cape that clasped onto his shoulders with gold clips; along with a sword, which he was sharpening, not acknowledging him in the slightest. 

He advanced on the throne, face embedded in a scowl, “You hurt Karl!” He yelled, raising his ax and swinging. 

Dream chuckled, the dark timbre of such sending chills down his spine. He moved his own blade just in time to block the ax, and pushed back, causing the dark-haired man to stumble back a couple of steps before he came at him again. 

The blonde stood up straight, towering over the shorter male, his cape swirling behind him. He repeated the action, blocking the ax and pushing the other back with little effort. 

Sapnap’s breaths were fast and heavy, his skin was starting to feel warmer and beads of sweat collected on the back of his neck and forehead. Dream’s own blade swept towards him, and he leaped out of the way, air whistling around him. 

“He deserved it,” Dream ground out, swinging at the younger’s side, which he barely dodged, jumping back with a distinguished grunt. 

Sapnap growled, and outside of his focus on Dream, the room began to spin. He recalled the many times he trained with the masked man. He knew how he moved, how he fought, how he thought. He may not have been as good as Dream regularly, but he had an advantage. 

He darted forward, swinging one way half-heartedly, and when Dream moved to block, he rapidly changed directions, slicing through his unprotected side. 

Dream yelped, stumbling back a couple of steps, and immediately grasped at the wound on his torso. 

“He didn’t deserve any of this,” Sapnap hissed, venom dripping from his voice, swinging once again at his old friend, this time hitting his opposite arm. “None of us deserve what you’ve put us through.” 

Dream cried out, then bit his lip, focusing on his breath. He readjusted his hold on his sword and charged at him, “You betrayed me!” 

Sapnap ducked beneath the blade and kicked at Dream’s feet, who lost his balance and fell onto the polished andesite. The shorter man stood over him, pressing his own blade to the back of his neck, tearing the cape slightly. 

Dream kicked at his ex-friend's ankles, then rolled, sending Sapnap careening to the ground next to him. 

The masked man took his chance and kicked the ax, sending it sliding on the stone. He then straddled the other man, who was catching his breath and held his sword to his neck.

Sapnap laid gasping beneath him, eyes burning with anger and unshed tears. He twisted his head to take in the position of his ax, it was too far out of reach. 

The cold stone contrasted from his skin greatly, like ice on hot asphalt. His hands clawed at the stone but eventually gave in. He saw no way out of this. 

Dream had hurt Karl, and George, and so many other people. And he was going to get away with it. His breath quickened, and his hot exhales burned his lip. 

The masked man was speaking above him, going off on a monologue, no doubt, but Sapnap couldn’t hear it. Dream was spinning now too, and red dots plagued his vision. He shut his eyes. Not again, he pleaded, please not again. 

Then it hit him. 

He twisted his hands uncomfortably, just enough to grab onto Dream’s legs and focused. Instead of trying to contain his anger as he had always done, he let it flow through him. 

He thought about Karl, bleeding to death in his basement and waiting for someone to save him. He thought about the crown left on the throne, the last sign of George in the SMP. He thought about the orphanage and the violent ‘care-givers’ in it. 

His face burned, he felt like he had been left in the desert with no shade or water. He clenched his teeth and opened his eyes. 

“You changed Dream,” He hissed, before digging his palms deeper into the man’s legs, “Someone needs to stop you.”

Almost immediately a sizzle was heard, and the smell of burning fabric and skin quickly filled his senses. 

Dream gasped, dropping his sword and jumped off of him, looking down at the charred fabric on his legs. 

“How did you do that?!”

Sapnap chuckled darkly, and stood up, walking slowly towards Dream, who backed away. 

“I’ve changed too.” 

He picked up his ax, and then pushed Dream further back, cornering him against the wall. He felt the heat radiating off of himself, but it didn’t feel uncomfortable. It felt strong. 

He swung the ax, his heart racing. He closed his eyes, preparing himself for what he was about to do. 

The sound of metal hitting stone echoed throughout the room, and the silence that followed was suffocating. 

All of a sudden a loud laugh broke through the quiet, and Sapnap winced, taking a step back. 

“You can’t even do it.” Dream wheezed, mocking the shorter man. “I always knew you were the weak link.” 

Sapnap threw the ax away from him, crying out in frustration, tears pricked at his eyes. Why couldn’t he do it? Dream had hurt them all. Why couldn’t he get justice? 

Dream’s laugh got louder, and the sound rattled in the younger's head. He backed up, tears beginning to spill down his face. 

“You’re pathetic.” Dream spat out, picking up his sword. “I was going to kill you, too. But you’re no threat to me.” 

“Stop it!” Sapnap wept, clutching at his ears and shutting his eyes. 

“Aww, is Pandas going to cry?” 

The younger let out a broken sob, before hitting himself on his thigh. “How can you not see it, Dream. You’re awful. George left, I left, everyone that loved you has left.” 

The blonde stopped laughing, taking a step closer to the ravenette, “Leave before I change my mind and kill you.” 

Sapnap didn’t need to be told twice and ran out of the castle. 

\----

Wilbur was slumped against the base of a tree, hands, and ankles tied behind him and those tied to the trunk. 

HBomb moved a few yards in front of him, gathering wood and kindling for a fire. 

The bounty hunter looked apathetic, almost numb. He didn’t seem to have a single emotion shown on his face, and Wilbur assumed this was how Dream looked under his mask.

Wilbur found him intriguing. There was something off about him, something that told him he was better suited for literally any other job. 

He thought about George, praying he was safe. Best case scenario, he just kept going without him. At least then he would be safe. 

He couldn’t stand the image of George, standing in the empty path and thinking he had left him. They had argued, but it wasn’t bad. He never wanted George to think he would abandon him over something like that. He would never willingly leave him at all. 

He knew George didn’t mean to be closed off, that’s just how he was. Wilbur could handle that, he could wait till he was comfortable opening up to him. He would wait as long as he had to. 

He focused back on the bounty hunter, who was now adding logs to his fire, he wondered if he had someone special, too. 

The shorter man’s dark hair was graced with a few stray gray hairs, and his lips seemed to be locked in a permanent frown, no doubt from his stressful choice of work and business partners.

“Why do you do it?” Wilbur asked, speaking for the first time since he was captured. 

His captor didn’t acknowledge him, just stared into the flames, emotionless. 

“You could do anything else, be anyone else. Yet you help him, help a murderer.” 

HBomb closed his eyes and took a deep breath, still keeping quiet. 

“How could you work with him?” 

He raised his head, blinking smoke out of his eyes, “You did too.”

“To protect my family.” 

“What do you think I’m doing?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if sapnap autocorrects to subpoena one more time I'm committing arson 
> 
> I've never written a fight scene before lol


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George returns to L'Manburg and decides to take matters into his own hands
> 
> Wilbur and Dream have a chat
> 
> Sapnap has a fiery outburst, George sees Dream for the first time since before they left

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you to fire_fly464 for help on this chapter, you absolute legend 
> 
> if you haven't read their works yet, what are you doing?

The bright sun shone into Niki’s house, projecting warmth and comfort into the still room. 

Sapnap stayed by his side for a day straight, waiting. The unconscious brunette laid in the bed, save for a couple of twitches here and there, his condition remained the same. Sapnap was grateful for the white bandages wrapped around his frail body, blocking him from seeing the wounds. 

His head rested in his hands, and a lone tear escaped his eye. How did this happen? How was this his life? Why had this man, someone that he had known for a few days, risked everything for him?

Untouched food laid by his side, courtesy of Philza and Niki. He stared at the offending platter of cold vegetables and soggy sandwich in contempt. He didn’t deserve food. Not when Karl remained unconscious because of him. 

The door creaked open behind him, and he huffed indignantly, “Philza, I’m fine, you don’t need to keep checking up on me.”

“Oh okay, I’ll leave then.” A higher-pitched voice responded, and Sapnap’s eyes shot open. 

He turned around quickly, fingers pinching his side, half expecting this to be a hallucination or dream. Standing in the door was the one person he wanted to see- 

“George!” He yelled, launching himself towards the shorter man, wrapping his arms tightly around him, “WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?”

George tentatively returned the hug, leaning his face against his friend’s shoulder. He took in a shaky breath, letting tears flow freely down his cheeks. 

“I’m sorry,” he whimpered, letting out a quiet sob, “I didn’t know what else to do.”

Sapnap rubbed his back, him too tearing up, “I forgive you, but don’t ever do that again - I can’t do this alone.” 

George nodded, digging his fingers deeper into his back, clutching onto him like a lifeline, “Dream has Wilbur. I know you aren’t happy we ran, but he kept me safe. I can’t let anything happen to him.”

“Hey, it’s going to be okay.” Sapnap comforted, “We’ll save him - Philza has a plan.” 

The brunette pulled away from him, avoiding the topic of Philza’s plan, and motioned towards the bed in the opposite corner of the room, “Who’s that?”

Sapnap bit his lip, looking to the ground, a light blush warming his face, “His name’s Karl, he’s my fake boyfriend.”

George’s eyebrows shot up, a small giggle escaping his throat, “What?!” 

“It’s a long story,” Sapnap responded, also giggling slightly, “Have you spoken to Philza yet? I’m sure he’ll want to discuss the plan with you.”

The shorter man shook his head, biting his lip, “No, the first thing I did was find you.” 

A stirring in the bed behind them gathered their attention, and Sapnap ran straight back to it, clutching his hand.

“-Sapnap?” A small voice asked. His eyelids opened slowly, adjusting to the bright room. 

“Karl!” He cried out, placing a gentle hand on the other man’s face. He lightly caressed his jaw, thumb delicately rubbing the skin, as if he were trying to prove to himself that Karl was  _ real _ , and not some fucked up trick his mind had come up with. 

He turned to George. “Will you go get Niki and tell her he’s awake?”

George nodded and turned out of the building, it didn’t take long for him to find the short blonde, and she immediately ran into the home. 

He didn’t go back in, instead stayed in the middle of the new L’Manburg, taking it all in. It was nice, really nice. But it was overwhelming, there were so many new things. Houses were stacked on top of each other, there was a brand new market for trading, and a large cavern laid beneath the boardwalk. 

He felt out of place. 

“Gogy!” He heard someone yell, and soon two teenagers ran up to him, the shorter one immediately wrapping his arms around him and laying his head on his shoulder. 

“I’m sorry.” Tubbo apologized, sniffling, and George rubbed his back. 

“For what?” 

“I hated you! I thought you willingly took Eret’s throne!” Tubbo sobbed, and Tommy nodded along, “I had no idea how bad Dream was.”

George frowned, lightly patting the teenager’s hair, “It’s my fault, I should have stood up to him.”

“-George can I ask you something?” Tommy interrupted, fidgeting with his fingers and looking at the ground, “Wilbur… how is he?” 

The elder’s eyes softened, and he offered the teenager a small smile, “He kept me alive, Tommy. There’s no doubt in my mind he’s terrorizing Dream right now.” 

Tommy flashed a brief smile, looking slightly relieved. George felt awful, he couldn’t imagine how worried Wilbur’s family must be. 

Tommy flashed a brief, slightly relieved smile. George felt awful, the two teenagers in front of him have been through far too much for their ages. He wished he had made other choices, had protected them. Anything. 

“He’ll be okay, Tommy. I promise.”

Hours later George stood on the outskirts of L’Manburg, looking over the city. From his vantage point, he could see into the Dream SMP, including Eret’s castle, which stared back at him imposingly. He was so close, but so far. Wilbur was most likely in there, being hurt by Dream. It made bile rise in his throat. 

He needed to see him, alive and reunited with his family. 

“I’m surprised, George.” A deep voice said behind him, “I knew the rumors of your return were true, but I wasn’t expecting you to want to see me of all people.” 

He shut his eyes, rubbing his hands on the side of his pants, “Schlatt.”

“So what has you crawling back? Hmm?” 

“I want to make a deal. Me for Wilbur.” He replied, voice short and stature, he had no desire to put up with any of Schlatt’s bullshit, “I want you to take it to Dream. No fighting, no battles, just a fair trade. He returns Wilbur, alive, and I go with him wherever he wants, no fighting.” 

Schlatts eyebrow quirked, and he smirked. “Aw, look at you, being the hero. But what’s in it for me?”

“If Dream leaves, you’re in the perfect position to take over the SMP. You’d be the next king.” 

Schlatt mulled over the proposition, before extending his rough hand, “Do you know what you’re doing?”

“I’m doing what’s right,” George replied, taking his hand. 

\----

Wilbur groaned, and he spit out a nasty concoction of blood and saliva onto the tile flooring. Stood above him was Dream, who’s mask stared down at him mockingly. 

Another blow landed to the side of his cheek, and his bound hands twisted uncomfortably behind him as he recoiled. 

“You ruin everything for me!” Dream spat, backhanding the other side of his face, the sound echoing off of the wall of the dungeon cell, “Why can’t you just fucking die?” 

Wilbur smirked, despite his split lip and bloody face. He knew he shouldn’t taunt him, his body was already flaring in intense pain, but he loved the power he could hold despite being bound on the floor. 

“Jealous George wanted me and not you, huh?” 

The masked man pulled out a knife, growling and slashing through his shoulder, “You kidnapped him!” 

“Sure didn’t feel that way when he curled into my chest, letting me hold him while we slept.” Wilbur continued, biting his lip to keep from groaning when Dream mimicked the action and sliced into his other shoulder. 

“Do you enjoy being hurt?” Dream said, kicking him back so he landed on his bound hands, “is that it?” 

He felt slight amounts of guilt flare in his chest using George as something to hurt Dream, but he would make it up to him later. 

“No, but you know what I do enjoy? When Gogy-”

“-George.”

“-Gogy, hugs me. He fits perfectly in my chest, he’s so short you know?” 

Dream raised his knife to his throat, seconds away from slicing when the door slammed open. 

“You’re going to want to wait to kill him,” Schlatt said as he stepped through, eyeing the man on the ground with little interest, “I have some information you’re going to want to hear.”

Dream released the knife from his throat, standing up straight. He patiently waited for the horned man to continue, not even Wilbur interrupting him.

Schlatt leaned against the door frame, leering at the man in shackles and licking his lips, “I just had the most interesting conversation with little  _ Gogy _ .” 

Wilbur’s head shot up, looking at Schlatt directly. “You don’t get to call him that,” he said immediately. 

The only response he got was a low chuckle. The hybrid was staring at him with a smirk on his face that made his stomach drop. Why did George meet up with him anyway? How did he get back?

He cursed under his breath, why couldn’t have he just kept going? 

“He’s willing to leave with you Dream, go anywhere you please, no more fighting. As long as you let Wilbur go and leave with him for good.” 

Wilbur thrashed against his binds, pushing against the slick floor desperately. “No. Absolutely not.” 

“He’s not talking to you!” Dream snapped, before facing back to Schlatt. His posture was arrogant, and it was clear he was considering it, “Just me and him?”

“Just you and him.” 

Wilbur’s heart raced, he needed out of these ropes asap. The thought of George sacrificing himself, leaving with Dream, made him want to vomit. 

Dream looked back to Wilbur, laughing darkly, “Looks like I might not need to kill you, after all.” 

\------

Philza paced anxiously on the floor of Niki’s house, the large group crowded into the room since Karl wasn’t in the position to move, and Sapnap refused to leave him. 

He checked outside the window once again, then chewed on his lip. 

“-I don’t understand, he was just here. How is he already missing? We were supposed to keep him safe!” Sapnap vented, running his hands through his hair. 

Karl frowned at the other man, reaching his hand out to his and pulling it close, intertwining their fingers. 

“He’s probably fine, he’s always late,” Tommy said calmly, but his bouncing leg proved differently.

Tubbo nodded, biting his fingernails and watching the door closely, “He wouldn’t run again, would he?” 

Technoblade shook his head, “The guy practically ran back here, no way.” 

“Then where is he?” Philza sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Their plan was good, but it would only work if they had George, who was nowhere to be found. 

“Should we go look for him?” Sapnap asked Philza, only trusting his opinion on the matter. 

The older man shook his head, and answered earnestly, “No. Tommy’s right, he probably just forgot we were meeting here before going to Dream. He knows the meeting spot, if he doesn’t show up there, then it’ll be a problem.” 

Sapnap nodded, chewing on the inside of his cheek. Something felt wrong about this, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. 

The conversations drowned out as he remembered the first time he had really bonded with George. 

They had been running through the streets of their old city, childish laughter and screams bouncing through the group, terrorizing the neighborhood. 

Dream had climbed up a brick wall, pulling himself up onto the roof and knocking off shingles with every step. 

George and Sapnap continued from the ground, neither near as comfortable with parkour as their friend. 

They had decided to cut through an alley, and Sapnap turned to tease George, who was slightly behind him when he slipped in a puddle and fell right on his head. 

George ran straight to him, wrapping him in his little arms and inspecting the scrape on his head like he had a clue as to what to do. 

He made sure he was okay, and as soon as he did, a loud laugh escaped through his throat, bouncing off of the alley-way. 

“You’re such an idiot!” He had said, holding out a hand for Sapnap. Despite the pain pounding through his head, he couldn’t help but laugh too. 

George held onto his hand, and they walked the rest of the way to their make-shift home. Dream had laughed at them for being slow, and Sapnap braced himself for Goerge to tell him what happened, but it never came. 

The older child offered him a comforting smile but never told their friend. 

He always tried to protect him, masking it with teasing remarks and insults, but still protecting him. Sapnap appreciated it to this day. 

\-------

George stared down at the rolled-up note in his hands, tears dripping onto the page. He wiped the salty liquid off of his face with the cuff of his sweater and took in a shaky breath. 

He was at the designated spot for their ‘meeting’, waiting for everyone else to arrive. He had no doubt Dream was already in the woods around him somewhere, watching him, making sure he was alone, per his request. 

_ Philza walked through the woods, Technoblade and Sapnap following behind him and the rest of his group stealthily moving through the surrounding trees.  _

_ Schlatt had given them the coordinates, telling them to bring George, and then they’d talk. Philza prayed upon everything he did and didn’t believe in, that George would show up.  _

“Dream!” He called, watching the surrounding trees, “I’m here!” 

_ Branched snapped underneath him as he took another step, only about 20 yards to go, and he could get his son back. He shared a look with Sapnap, and they both agreed, Dream would finally be taken care of.  _

__ Two tall figures emerged through the trees, and George steeled his face. Wilbur had a gag in his mouth, bloody shoulders, a slight limp, and bound hands. Anger burned in his stomach at the sight, he had never wanted to hurt Dream more. 

“Hi, Georgie,” Dream greeted curtly, knife out and ready to slice through Wilbur at any sign of disobedience. 

_ They finally reached the coordinates, the glaringly empty clearing mocking them. Philza bit the inside of his cheek. Where was everybody?  _

_ Technoblade stepped forward, inspecting the area surrounding them. His ears pinned to his head, but nothing was heard save for their own people. He turned to Philza and shook his head.  _

“Dream,” George responded, stomach twisting at the nickname he used on him. The way he spoke to him reminded him of the man in the alley, but this time, there was no rescue, no escape. 

Dream let go of Wilbur, who immediately ran to George, shaking his head and begging for him to stop and run, the words coming out muffled from the cloth gag. 

George shook his head and wrapped his arms around the taller man, tears spilling down his face.

“I love you, Wilbur,” He whispered softly, trying to pour all the love and support into the words. He tried to share every emotion that had been plaguing him over the past few days, tried to put all of the words he never got the chance to say into the simple sentence. 

George tried to cling to the residual warmth of the hug as he pulled away.

Wilbur was crying, tears spilling down his bruised cheeks, still shaking his head. It took all of George’s effort to not reach over and wipe the tears away. 

_ “Something’s wrong,” Sapnap said, breath beginning to tremble. “Phil, why isn’t anyone here? Where’s George?”  _

_ Philza closed his eyes, taking his own shaky breath. His eyes pricked with tears, if they weren’t already here, there was a good chance Wilbur and George were in grave danger.  _

_ “I don’t know, Sapnap.”  _

_ Sapnap collapsed to his arms and knees, letting out a pitiful sob.  _

George shook his head desperately as Dream walked closer, displeased with their affections. He held his sword, out ready to swing. 

George quickly shoved the rolled-up note in Wilbur’s jacket, before jumping in between the two men. Silently pleading with Dream not to hurt him. 

“Let’s go George-” He said, his voice dripping with a cruel mockery of love. It was so different from the warmth that filled Wilbur’s every word and action. George forced himself not to cringe away as he felt an arm wrap around his waist, pulling him close.

The shorter man’s nose curled in disgust as he was brought into Dream’s chest, the once comforting smell of his cologne making his head hurt. 

Wilbur fought against the ropes yet again, the material staining with blood from where it dug into his skin. Hot tears fell down his cheek and onto the cloth in his mouth. 

_ Philza watched as the rest of his group emerged from the woods, each with matching worried expressions on their faces.  _

_ He was frozen in place, watching as Niki ran to Sapnap, rubbing a hand on his back and attempting to comfort him.  _

_ Soon the smell of smoke filled his senses and he heard Niki yelp, pulling away from the crying man, and he turned to face him.  _

_ Small flames emerged from beneath Sapnap’s fingertips, spiraling through the grass in a mess of spirals.  _

“Just in case you try to follow us,” Dream told Wilbur, holding out a syringe of clear liquid. 

Wilbur tried to jerk away, but the masked man grabbed his hair and pulled it to the side roughly, exposing his neck.

“NO!” George yelled, trying to shove the syringe out of his hand. Dream reacted quicker, and the needle punctured his neck and the tallest man quickly fell to the ground. 

_ Philza broke out of his shocked stance and ran to the raven-haired man, “Sapnap, can you hear me?”  _

_ Sapnap’s chest heaved, and the flames grew, spreading through the grass and trees.  _

_ “Sapnap! Breathe! You need to calm down!”  _

_ Tubbo ran towards him as well, the red and orange of the growing fire illuminating his face, “Think about Karl, Sap!”  _

__ “It’s just us, now Georgie,” Dream’s voice was soft in his ear, making his blood curdle. George couldn’t help but flinch slightly as the grip around his waist grew tighter, forcing him closer to the man he despised. “How it was always meant to be.” 

He tossed the viridian orb as far as he could, and George braced himself for the jarring feeling of teleportation. 

“Just like how it was always meant to be,” Dream whispered softly, before their physical bodies disappeared, only to materialize hundreds of yards away. 

George held back a gag and almost started crying again when his captor threw another orb. 

“I’m sorry, Wilbur.” He whispered, eyes shutting and jaw clenched. 

_ The flames grew larger, taking over the woods surrounding them, ash falling from the sky. Philza looked to the rest of his family and friends. He needed to make a decision quickly.  _

_ “Everyone run! I’ll get him!”  _

_ “But dad-” _

_ “Now, Tommy!”  _

_ The group finally caved, escaping the burning woods. Philza picked up a large branch, walking towards Sapnap, “I’m sorry, Sap.”  _

\-----

A week later, Wilbur sat on his bed in Philza’s house, Tommy asleep with his head in his lap. 

His wounds were healing, and so was his relationship with his family, but something was missing. 

He looked down at the boy using his leg as a pillow, running his hands through his messy blonde hair, before looking to the nightstand where the worn note laid. 

He picked it up, again, for the hundredth time that day, despite the message being ingrained in his brain. 

_ Dear Wilbur,  _

_ I’m really sorry we never got to escape this place. I imagine in some alternate reality we ended up safe, happy, content, in a little house somewhere with lots of cats. I like to think Sapnap and your family visit us sometimes, too.  _

_ I realized something while in the woods with Technoblade, Dream had always made us get rid of our weaknesses, but he didn’t do the same. Whether he knows it or not, I’m his weakness. He loves me, in a sick, perverted way, but it is love.  _

_ I don’t know if I’ll ever see you guys again, so protect Sapnap for me, yeah? I’m glad I got to know you, Wilbur. I don’t regret any of it.  _

_ I love you.  _

_ -Gogy  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is not the end, stay tuned to see what happens to our boys <3 
> 
> on a different note, thank you so much to everyone who read, commented, or left kudos. I started writing this because I saw a lack of my favorite ship and wanted to fix it, never once thinking I was a writer. I really have discovered a passion of mine through this, and I'm grateful to everyone I've met and interacted with through it. 
> 
> I have a lot of plans, both for the continuation of this story, and others :)
> 
> as always, follow me on tumblr for more @slushiesforcar


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